So it’s my birthday! I’m 28 today. And the weirdest thing about being 28 is that it means that I’m not still 22. And sometimes birthdays are hard for me (I think I had my midlife crisis at age 10), because it can kind of feel like another year has passed that I haven’t gotten published or fallen in love or started to feel grounded. I also keep thinking of this Helen Mirren quote:
“It seems to me that the years between eighteen and twenty-eight are the hardest, psychologically. It’s then you realize this is make or break, you no longer have the excuse of youth, and it is time to become an adult – but you are not ready.”
And at first the quote made me feel scared. Does this mean that I need to take the aspiring out from before the adult in my blog’s subtitle? Does this mean I should have everything together or feel more put together or figured out? 28 is the end of the the newish “emerging adult” categorization that conveniently popped into public consciousness around the time I graduated from college.
But it’s also king of exciting. Because if the hardest years are (almost) behind me, that can only be a good thing, right? Maybe this is the year those things will start to fall into place – as much as they ever do because I know very, very, very few people of any age who have all that much figured out – and I suspect the ones that say they do might just be pretending.
And birthdays are a lovely way for people to come together. My new roommates surprised me with cake and tequila shots and lovely symbolic presents for what they hope the year brings for me last night at midnight. Friends are texting and tweeting and writing me facebook messages. I’m about to go get some pumpkin flavored breakfast pastries and then am heading to The Morgan Library to see exhibits on Alice and Wonderland and Ernest Hemingway. Good, bad, or (most likely) in-between, I think 28 is going to be an interesting year.