From the Vault: 25

An old piece of writing. In honor of the fact that I turn 30 on the 26th.

Posted on March 15th, 2019

Every year around my birthday, I go into deep introspection about what it means to be another year older and how I feel about it. In the lead up to 23, I thought about how that was the age my parents were when they had me and I asked myself if I was too young to be a mother. I was, by the way-- I know others who have become parents much earlier or at that age, but in this instance the phrase "different strokes for different folks" is wildly relevant.

There is no major milestone for 25, either by societal standards or my own sentimental. But, like always, I'm taking stock of my life thus far and wondering what this new year means to me. In some ways, it seems large because it's halfway through another decade, half way through my twenties. Time and again, my life has proven to be ever-changing. From our moves around the country growing up, to my own emotional upkeep, my life is never static. And, of course, I have grown and shifted and I look and feel differently than I did at different stages. 

I think time is the biggest stranger to me this year. Time weighs on me like a heavy blanket. Do I have enough time, what am I doing with my time, where has all of this time gone?

I remember, as a kid, reassuring myself that it was still so long before I moved away from home. But this year, I turn 25 and I haven't lived at home in seven years. All of that time slipped away from me, I was 10, then 15, then 20, and now this-- I never knew that it would go so fast. As I write this, I know I am working in cliches. I know that this is an age-old concern. Time is a construct, and it is one that we chase and worry over. And I still get older. 

I want enough time. I know, I know, I know I'm 25 and conceivably have plenty of it. But conceivable isn't concrete. I want to know that there are enough moments left with my family and my friends. But as I say this, I know that no measure of time will never be enough with the people that I really, truly love. 

There are so many moments where I'm certain that I am wasting my life. But, above all this year, I have gotten to spend valuable hours with those that I care about. And that, on its own, has brought me a level of comfort and joy that I think would be idiotic to take for granted. If there is any plus to all of this worrying over time, it is that great occasions are so clear to me now... That I don't wonder if I let something pass me by this year. I hope that 25 contains more of this, more understanding of vital moments, more holiness for them, and that they include the people I love. Above all, I want that for myself.