So….I’ll be 25 tomorrow!
I remember when I was 18 that I decided I wanted to be 18 forever because, duh, it was totally THE COOLEST age. EVER. Thankfully, that’s not the way the universe works and I was saved from what could have been a very naive life. Whew! Then, when I turned 21, I was like, ‘alright, this is WAY cooler than 18!’ Also on that most fabulous day of my right of passage into the 21 crowd, my brother (who is 2 1/2 years older than me), said, “welcome to the last most significant birthday of your life until you’re 30! Happy birthday kid!” OMG, WHAT?! 30?!?! What’s happening?? Now, yes, my brother is a delight, and I love him despite his comment that put me into a near panic attack, but seriously?? I felt like I was aging at an alarming rate and 30 seemed like it was “just around the corner”. I turned 22 though, and couldn’t have cared less about 30 because magic happened and I realized how silly it was to rush things. 30 was still years away. It is still years away. Although I do think 30 will be a super cool age and I’m looking forward to it!
I’m always excited for my birthday for obvious reasons–extra love and well wishes, cake, sprinkles, and bright colors. Amidst all this excitement and razzle dazzle though, I’m having a slight quarter-life crisis. For some reason, 25 seems so official, so much more permanent than any other age I’ve been. I feel like things are expected of me now. I feel like I should be a Super Adult or something, but most of me still just wants to be a Super Kid. I know I’m not alone in this, because nearly every person that will ever have a birthday, will feel the joys and conundrums of growing another year older. Birthdays are a good thing though! Remember, we’re all in this thing together, aging crises (no matter how old we are) and all!