Running a Half Marathon and Dealing with Adulthood

Eight years ago, I was so sure of who I was and what I wanted to be. I was proud of being outspoken and blunt, loud, and unapologetic. I wanted to be special, or at least interesting.

I refused to take any interest in make-up, wore baggy clothes, and a “don’t care” attitude. I labelled myself as “weird,” adventurous,” and “blunt,” all in an attempt to create some sort of identity for myself.