My Quarter Life crisis is finished and I am now moving on to the next phase of adulthood.
Get the rockers and depends out, I am officially old!
As much as I joke about it, I really am doing just that, joking.
As I was explaining to a friend on Saturday, For the most part I have always welcomed getting older. In part, I think because as the youngest of not just my siblings, but my cousins as well, I always wanted to so desperately to join them. While they were great about including me, there were times especially as we all got older that my parents put their foot down and said no, – usually when it involved some spirits.
When I finally turned twenty-one, an age I had been hoping for, for years, not so I could get “Chocolate Wasted.” But so I could go to bars and hang out with my siblings. Alas it was incredibly bittersweet, occurring only months after my sister was killed.
What was supposed to be an exciting and momentous occasion in my life, was overcast by the fact the one person who was probably even MORE excited and had been planning my twenty-first for years (think Gilmore Girls) was not there to celebrate.
In the ensuing years it was a rollercoaster, not because I was scared of wrinkles -their is botox for that- but because of the highs and lows of grief and the trepidation I had turning twenty-five. The age she was when she passed.
Last year was tumultuous, not only was I dreading turning twenty-five, but as it approached, I was also battling a debilitating illness no doctor knew what it was. Only weeks after my birthday, I ended up in the Emergency Room, so sick and frustrated I wasn’t sure if I would be seeing my twenty-six birthday.
Yet, here I am ready to rock this year. I kicked Lyme’s arse. I faced being twenty-five. I lost friends. Made friends. Had romances. Enjoyed singledom. Traveled. A lot. Found a new career direction and a new purpose. But most importantly, I loved myself. I took care of myself. And I accepted where I am at, in this crazy journey called life.
My last week of being twenty-five redeemed everything about this last year. I celebrated love. I went on mermaid adventures. I made a new friend, which after four hours of coffee, followed by a night of martinis, I would definitely call a kindred spirit. Spent time with my nephews. I saw my bestie and celebrated getting “old.” She spoiled me with delicious brunch, our annual boat ride (more about that later) and some sea glass hunting, making me think, hey this “Old thing” isn’t to bad.
I kid. I am not old. I am going into my prime. Like Television prime time.
The ups and downs and constant changes of the early twenties are behind me. The insecurities, unknowing of who I am as a person and what I want in life diminished significantly. The pressures to settle down, especially living in the city, in the far distant future. the knowledge and maturity I have gained from relationships from all parts of life, leading me to ones that are steady and solid, and filled with love and loyalty. This is my time. My moment. Not only am I happy. I am truly excited for what twenty-six will bring. My quarter life crisis is behind me and my prime is starting now!
Bring it Twenty-six!