Recently, I've stumbled into what some might call a "midlife crisis"... At the ripe old age of twenty-two.

I'm calling it "existential confusion", for lack of a less dramatic phrase. In a nutshell, I feel like I've lost my identity. Some days, I wonder if I even knew what it was to begin with. I am labeled a mom, a girlfriend, a dispatcher, a daughter, little sister, and the list goes on. I feel like these labels don't do us enough justice as people. Don't get me wrong, I love more than anything being a mother, raising a flawless, sassy, eternally empathetic one and a half year old is the most wonderful and momentous thing I've ever been tasked with. Being the girlfriend to one of the goofiest, caring and equal parts handsome and hysterical men in the universe is the most fun I've ever had and beyond fulfilling. Not to mention, my job is both challenging and rewarding in all the right ways and my family is undoubtedly the most wonderful, supportive, understanding and endlessly entertaining bunch of self-described comedians there ever were. Setting the joy that I feel being labeled all of those things aside, I've realized that I do not want to be dubbed well-versed in one topic, I don't want to be an expert in one field, I don't want to limit myself to stereotypes and invisible boundaries. Speaking to others about this has brought it to my attention that not very many people do want those typecasts to be present in their day-to-day life.

So then why is the human way of thinking to assume that everyone falls into one category? You're a hippie, he's a prep, they're businessmen, she's a hairdresser, a nerd, a caretaker. That is setting aside the immense stereotypes surrounding race, sex, ethnicity, social class, level of education, etc., which I can't even begin to delve into (nor would I do it justice if I tried). My goal is to allow these labels and boundaries to fall away from me as a person, because not only do people label others easily, but so often we tend to label ourselves and that is when we begin to become complacent. I want to be well-rounded in all brackets, and I want to do my part in helping shift modern thinking away from the condemnation of labels. This realization sparked when my boyfriend, our daughter and I were driving home from a weekend road trip. I turned to him and said, "What's your word?". Understandably confused, he replied, "What do you mean?" I explained to him that I'd just read a book ("Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. If you haven't, you must.) that theorized that every city, and equally, every person, has their own "word" that describes them right down to their core. He couldn't think of one off the top of his head, so I asked him what he would like his word to be in five years. He told me, "Successful... Wait, no, accomplished." And then went on to ask me mine. Naturally, I'm never properly prepared to answer my own questions, so I sat in silence for a few minutes before saying, "Wholesome." To me, to be wholesome would be the epitome of well-rounded, healthy, transparent, truly fulfilled, and unequivocally unlabeled. Society has taught us that we need to find one hobby, one passion, one career, stick to it and that what defines us, even after we're gone. This is the type of thinking that ultimately leads us to feel unfulfilled, unsatisfied, "unwhole", or like something is missing when we are not the very best at what we've labeled ourselves, consequently leading us to these moment of "existential confusion" like the one that I'm experiencing all too intimately now.

I am acknowledging my stagnation, realizing a need for change, pointing a finger at the root of the cause and saying to hell with that widely accepted logic. In my opinion, the joy in life comes from a compilation of moments, experiences, and all the little things that fill in those gaps and make us feel unabridged and absolute. When people ask, "What does she do?" I want the answer to be, "Whatever makes her feel whole."

This is the documentation of that journey.

This is my Hunt for Wholesome.