Its strange to get older and only be 23.
For some reason I always feel like I have to justify everything I’m doing or how I’m feeling because I’m so ‘young’. It’s one of the bane’s of my existence to be pulled up for my age, even though I’ve tried hard to embrace it, laugh at myself.
See, the problem is that I take myself far too seriously, this is not new.
You would think I’d have learned from this fact and gotten past it but apparently not this birthday – maybe the next one.
Anyway, that’s not even the point of my post today. Just a lengthy preamble to what I actually want to say about 23.
I suppose I am, even today, 23. But a few days ago I was just 23, just turned 23…no one likes you when you’re 23.
That’s about the time she walked away from me.
Okay, I’ll stop, lol.
I think this year was the first time I started looking outwards instead of inwards for my birthday. I’ve maintained for many years that my day is about me and if I’m only getting once per year then heck it all – I’m only thinking about me!
And to be honest, this is kind of incredible and I’m still advocating for this, I do need things to be about me once in a while.
But this year, I really started appreciating the people around me, in my life and subsequently where I’ve gotten in this 23 years of occupying space.
God that is mad when you think about it. Mad but so incredibly, unbelievably, beautiful.
It was a good birthday.