Reflections on Turning 23
It ‘s lacking a candle, but here’s a photo of how I spent my last day as a 22 year old human:
(Because there’s no more delicious way to end your 22-year-old days than a Frozen Hot Chocolate from Serendipity 3 on the Upper East Side.) As of right now, I have about 15 minutes until I enter “nobody likes you when you’re 23” territory and I’m celebrating it by a) blogging and b) gazing around in awe at how organized, settled, and homey my new apartment finally looks and c) watching 500 Days of Summer.
Twenty-two was a really interesting year for me — one that almost feels completely split down the middle. The first half of the year, I felt like everything was going right for me and I was in such an ideal place. I had everything I wanted, was fiercely independent, and on most days, felt happy.
For the past few months, it’s been more difficult. But now that I am back out in the world on my own, I’m genuinely happy to be ringing in my twenty-third year in this position: where I am currently. It’s a good place to be, I’d say.
Now that I’ll be turning 23 in just a few minutes, I’m not sure a lot will change. I’ll still love 500 Days of Summer. I’ll still live in this one-bedroom apartment. I’ll still make the same amount of money and do the same thing for a living every day. My taste in movies and TV shows and music probably won’t change, as it really hasn’t in years. I’ll still like the same snacks and crave the same foods. I’ll still continue to re-read any one of the Harry Potter books when I’m bored.
Despite all the things that won’t change, I feel an overwhelming sense of possibility when it comes to the things that will. Everything might not be perfect, especially written down on paper, but we’re all only getting better, right? We’re all moving forward and we’re never coming back. I don’t feel like I’m staying stagnant; I don’t believe any of us are. So here’s to 23, to moving forward, to only getting better despite flaws, setbacks, and curveballs.
If you’ve come this far, thank you for reading my birthday ramble. Here’s to you.