My birthday is in a week. One week. A week from today, but
when I post this, it will probably be a week from yesterday. It’s my 25th
birthday.
I remember when I was 20, my mom told me that her “freak-out”
birthday was 25 because she realized she was halfway to 50. “Naw, I am always excited
to be older!” I thought to myself. And that’s how it went through 21, 22, 23,
and 24. But then, this last Saturday, I was sitting in the salon getting my
hair cut, with “22” by Taylor Swift playing on the radio when I learned that my
stylist was only 23. Then that night I realized that my good friend Abby was 6
years younger than me and only 11 years older than my nephew…
OH. MY. GOSH. I’M. OLD.
I panicked! When did this happen?? My mid-twenties had snuck
up behind me and sucker-punched me in the face.
I really am halfway to 50! …and I guess even more like
my mom than I realized.
But, then I took a deep breath and looked at what has
happened the last 25 years of my life. I had a great school experience from
kindergarten through college. I have met amazing people and traveled to awesome
places. I lived in New York. I graduated with a degree in Advertising and got a
great marketing job that I love. I met the man of my dreams and had a fairytale
engagement, wedding, and honeymoon. The fairytale hasn’t ended, and every day
is even better. I have two puppies that I adore, and am moving into a house that
means so much to me. I am surrounded by people who love me, and whom I love. I
live in a beautiful place, and am living the best life with my best friend. With
his hand in mine, the future looks brighter than ever.
And, when I put it that way, 25 doesn’t look so bad.
It looks perfect, actually.
