I’m going back to the basics with this recipe, people.

As I’m getting older (and I know everyone is now collectively rolling their eyes whenever a 25-year old says they’re getting older), I’m finding that I’m starting to feel like I’m becoming who I’m supposed to be. I know that sounds like a terrible Taylor Swift song or a tampon commercial, but truly, I’m becoming my own woman.

For one, my style has slightly changed. I no longer feel the need to wear costume-y clothes, unless they have Peter Pan collars because I’m mildly obsessed with those. I’m also trying out this thing where I go jewelry-less which feels weird since my neck is used to the additional 5 pound weight strapped around it.

I’m also giving less of a hoot about makeup. I used to cringe at the idea of leaving the house without an entire pageant face done up. Now, I couldn’t care less about whether or not the Taco Bell drive-thru teenager notices my chin pimple or if the cute guy in line at Safeway cares that I don’t have any mascara on. Quite simply, because I no longer care.

Don’t take that as me no longer caring about my appearance – I still wear deodorant (you’re welcome) and enjoy dressing up to go to the dollar store on days that end in ‘y’ but I just no longer care about whether or not my eye shadow coordinates with the secondary color scheme of my dress. And you know what? It’s positively liberating.

In fact, I haven’t worn makeup in weeks. And I’m set to travel on two trips this month and I’m not even positive I’ll bring my makeup with me. I’m going rogue, people, and I’m ready for the onslaught of “you look tired” comments that usually tail along when I don’t have my signature cat-eye. BRING IT.

Actually, I don’t even care much about snagging a man anymore, either. In the past I’d get dolled up to go grocery shopping, hopelessly waiting for Mr. Right to stand behind me in line. We’d bat our eyes at one another and as I reached for the conveyor belt barrier, he would too and our hands would touch. And he magically wouldn’t judge the fact that I have 5 pounds of butter in my basket, twelve boxes of cake mix and five packages of Oreos. And then we’d go out for drinks and fall madly in love and laugh in unison when people asked to tell them the story of how we’d met.

And my friends all tell me I should keep at the online dating or pick up some more hobbies so I can go out and meet people. But frankly, I finally feel like I don’t need a man – or anyone – to complete me. And honestly, at this point in my life, I feel like a significant other may just be a burden on my whole rah-rah girl power liberation movement I have going on.

So yeah, I’m 25 and finally feeling like myself. It’s about damn time. I’m going back to the basics in my personal life and in my cooking aesthetic. Don’t worry – my aesthetic of making crazy wonderful desserts out of cake mix and butter are still here to stay. But I do plan on amping up my queue with more homemade recipe staples, too – ones that taste anything but ordinary but have that classic feel. Things like this Homemade Microwave Lemon Curd which, by the way, is so stupidly easy that my dog could probably make it. Normally I don’t like saying things like that because 1) it’s somewhat insulting to my dog, and 2) because there’s always someone out there who won’t achieve the recipe and then I’ll feel bad. But forreals, if you follow the steps (and they are majorly easy to follow), you will have made your own lemon curd from scratch.

BOOYAH.

Now let’s get curdin’! (Also, I promise to never say ‘curdin” again).

*slightly adapted from here

This curd tastes HEAVENLY. Smooth, creamy, with bright, fresh, tart lemon flavor. To serve, spread it on waffles, pancakes, French toast, muffins, scones, pound cake (as pictured), angel food cake, sandwiched between layers of cake, as a filling for cupcakes, swirled into cheesecake batter, spread onto toast, as a filling for thumbprint cookies or tarts, and of course, by the spoonful (aka, my favorite method).

Have a super sweet day!

xo, Hayley