33: What am I doing with my life?
What am I doing with my life?
This birthday hit different.
33 was quickly approaching. I love birthdays, including mine. The excitement starts to creep up a month before. It’s an extremely reflective time of the year for me. Birthdays have always felt more like a new year than a birthday.
It’s a time to set my intentions for the next year, feel grateful for the previous year, and welcome in another year of adventure.
But this birthday hit different. I didn’t feel excited or reflective. I definitely didn’t feel adventurous. I felt sad and anxious AF.
“What am I doing with my life?”
This dreaded question pays a visit from time to time, but it never lingers long. I can usually answer it quickly and off it goes. But this time, it squatted and made a mess of my energy.
“What am I doing with my life?”
I couldn’t answer it. For the life of me, I couldn’t answer the damn question. I tried. God knows I tried. I tried to make sense of my current situation. I tried to have a rough plan for the upcoming year. I tried to answer the question in one eloquent sentence.
But I couldn’t.
And so I the question turned into a full fledged crisis:
“What am I doing with my life? I’m 33 and have nothing to show for it. Seriously, what am I doing? I’m gonna be 50 and still be wandering and asking the same damn question. Am I gonna spend the rest of my life wondering—what am I doing with my life?”
That’s my greatest fear—hitting 50 and still not knowing what am I doing with my life. Still wandering and wondering. Still purposeless and directionless.
I don’t feel so young anymore. I’m not in my twenties. I feel this intense internal and external pressure to have it all figured out. To have a detailed 5 year plan. To, at the very least, be able to answer the question, “what do you do for a living?”
But as hard as I try, I can’t. I. Can. Not. For the life of me, I can’t plan sht. The anxiety of a 5 year plan is far more crippling than the anxiety of not having a 5 year plan.
But the pressure remains. The question lingered some more:
“What the hell am I doing with my life?”
It was bad. Days before my birthday and I was spiraling. I needed an answer, but the harder I tried, the worst it got.
And so, since I couldn’t answer the frikin question, I started asking God—more like begging.
“Ma, what am I doing with mah life?!? Please tell me. In one sentence preferably. What’s my purpose? What’s my life’s work? Why am I not successful? What’s wrong with me?”
I begged for answers. God knew I wouldn’t let it go until She answered me.
And like always, She came in loud and clear in the most unexpected way at the most unexpected time.
“My love, your career hasn’t been your priority, that’s why you haven’t climbed the ladder. Own that decision. Your priority has been your personal and spiritual growth and development. And if we’re measuring success in terms of growth and development, you, my love, are success. Awareness is your currency. The other stuff will fall into place. Focus on your awakening. That’s all you need to do.”
She also told me my purpose, in one eloquent sentence, which I’ll keep between Her and I (some things are just too sacred to share).
On my birthday eve, the question bid farewell and the relief flooded me. How could I be ashamed of the life I have chosen? Of my priorities? How could I question what I’m doing with my life when I know darn well what I’m doing.
God reminded me (once again) that I don’t only have to accept but OWN the unconventional life I have chosen. In a world that praises traditional measures of success, I have to come back to my truth, time and time again. I can’t get caught up in these worldly things. Success for me has and always will be measured differently.
“Awareness is your currency.”
As I age, I HAVE to stay strong in my choices and not cave into the pressure. Ultimately, I have to trust myself and know myself. I have to honor my intuition and where she’s guiding me, even if I can’t see that far ahead. I have to trust the present moment is exactly what I need to evolve into the highest version of myself. I have to, have to, HAVE to keep on forging on.
The work I came here to do is not conventional, but absolutely necessary. My life won’t look like the majority of the people I know. At 33, I have come to terms with that.
There’s a lot I still don’t know, but there’s one thing I’m 100% sure about:
I live everyday as if I’m going to die tomorrow. What’s going to matter when I’m on my deathbed? Not what I did for a living, not what business I started, not how much money I made, not what I owned, not my savings, not what people thought of me—honestly, that’s not going to matter to me when I’m dying.
When I’m dying, what’s going to matter is: did I learn the lessons I came here to learn (that’s the biggest one for me)? Did I spiritually evolve? Am I closer to self-realization? Did I help others awaken? Did my soul see, do, hear, and taste everything she wanted to?
What’s going to matter is if my soul is satisfied.
My life is going to be reflective of what matters to me on my deathbed. I own this. And I wholeheartedly now know with certainty what am I doing with my life.
Fulfilling my spiritual and worldly purpose, growing, developing, evolving, transforming, and awakening—one rebirthday at a time.
Enjoy these pictures of my birthday weekend. It was a pure Michigan fall with my sisters, birthday worthy vegan eats and enough love to share with you!
The Cepero sisters do fall.
A far cry from the pumpkin patches in Miami.
A cauliflower wing that rivals the real thing—what’s real anyway? Detroit Filling Station, Ann Arbor, MI.
Traditional Yemini tea and dessert (sabaya, a flaky dessert reminiscent of blaklava drizzled with honey). At Qahwah House in Dearborn, MI.
Three Miami girls do fall.
My sister baked me the most AMAZING vegan chocolate birthday cake. Recipe at Nora Cooks. Frosting by Simple Mills (found at Whole Foods).
Halloween on Tillson Street in Romeo, MI.
Dearborn, MI—dubbed the Arab Capital of America. And the perfect place for an authentic Lebanese birthday meal.
In the summer we ice cream. In the fall we donut.
Pair that donut with a hot spiced cider.
The perfect fall birthday day.
33 and sure of what I’m doing with my life.
Hi! I’m Janelle, celery juice junkie, solo-traveling soul-seeker, over-sharing storyteller, healing foods expert, chronic deep thinker, spiritual self-help bookworm, sober Miami girl, papaya eating fanatic, eager grocery shopper, and free spirit foodie, sharing my journey into awakening and love for conscious food, kinda like Anthony Bourdain meets Oprah.
I created The Free Spirit Foodie in 2016 as a way to process a lay off, a year-long solo trip around India, and a search for God. It evolved into a sacred digital space to share everything I was experiencing and learning.
We’re talking solo-female traveling, plant-based living, holistic healing, and all of the AHA moments in between. Thank you for joining me on this journey. May you be reminded you are not alone and that living an authentic life is our only purpose.
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