Birthdays are celebrations that bring out the best in you regardless of if the previous 364 days of the year in your life have been lackluster.
But is it me or am I aging a bit too fast?
The 28th of January is approaching, and I have all the details of my special day planned out. Get cute. Get Drunk. Eat buffalo wings.
What I’m not prepared for, however, is the infamous birthday question from bystanders and waiters “It’s your birthday??!! Happy Birthday! How old are you?” My answer will be 25. I’ll let you be the judge of this seeing as how I was born in 1991.
Here’s why transitioning from my early twenties to mid-upper twenties is a bit painful…
I just started to enjoy this party!
Realizing that you’re getting older in the not so monumental way is a real buzz kill and I really was just starting to enjoy this party! Throughout my relatively young life I have stressed and worked my a** off just to have a chance to dance with the cute guy by the dj booth, so to speak. My self-esteem was poor, and my personal outlook on life was poor. Hell, I was poor.
And after all the hard work that I put in so that I could be successful in my life, I look back now and realize I wasn’t really present. You could stick a blowup doll in place of me from age 10 up until age 26 and no one would know the difference. I was so focused on planning and preparing for a better future that I wasn’t really living in the moments that made up my twenties. I checked out of my life after feeling unworthy and unsatisfied only to recently check back in and realize “Holy Sh*t where have all my twenties gone?!”
In short, I really just started to enjoy life as fully embracing myself, and feeling as though it’s okay that I don’t have everything figured out. I just became self-assured and another birthday is just a reminder of all the time I wasted of my twenties chasing after guys, stressing over finances, and being anti-social. So, for right now I’m like the drunk, messy girl at the party who’s begging the dj to play another song even though it’s 4:15 a.m. I don’t want to go home and face reality. I’ve been holding onto 25 with this same zeal since two birthdays ago.
That Plan Sucks
Another birthday approaching is like the New years eve count down to my thirties. That is the age range in which much is expected of you in terms of financial stability, professional career and a balanced home life. 33 is the age that I want to settle down and have kids (at least that’s what I told myself at age 18). Young me came up with that mental plan because 33 seemed so far away. Now the shit is practically knocking on my door like a Jehovah witness at 8 a.m. on a Friday.
I’m not saying that things will work out that way, which would suck if they didn’t but it still would kinda suck if they did. If my plan to be married with kids by age 33 is accurate then that gives me only 6 more years of freedom. I’m not sure it would even be legal for me to take care of another human being seeing as how I am barely taking care of myself properly. I overfed myself yesterday and forgot to feed myself today. A husband has no chance, let alone, a kid.
Pull My Finger
I’m still childish. At some point all the quirky, child-like things that make me, ME will stop being adorable and I will promptly be told to “Grow TF up Krystal” when I pout over not being able to watch Spongebob instead of Law & Order. I think I have about a year and 1/2 left of the “puppy dog eyes” effect that I use to get my way and then it’s all over. I will go from being the “cool girl” in the club to the “older chick” in the club. Never mind that I don’t even go to clubs or was ever considered cool.
Mother’s Annoying yet, accurate Advice
“Getting older is a blessing” BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. (See told you I was childish) but she’s right as moms usually are. Despite all the anxious feelings and thoughts floating around me this week, I do realize how amazing it is to be able to not only turn another year older but to celebrate it with people I love in a big, extra way. Don’t sign me up for AARP just yet! This plum is still ripe.
Getting to the point where you can honestly say that you are actively enjoying life can bring up the fact that you’ve been passive in life years before; but don’t allow that to deter you from celebrating in the now. Don’t waste anymore time crying over birthdays; instead, go do ratchet sh*t with your friends until you hear the judgmental tone from the young 20-year-old in the corner tell her friend “Oh my God, I hope I’m not a hot mess like that when I’m older.”
Push her down and continue partying.
What are your anxieties about aging? Comment and Let’s Talk