I turned 24 on Friday!
This might sound crazy, but something about 24 feels… I don’t know, more adult than 23.
I have no real explanation as to why, it just does. Maybe it’s because I’m one year closer to a quarter-life crisis. Or maybe the newness of my twenties has finally worn off. Or maybe it’s because I’m actually fully employed now, not just in part-time jobs and in school.
Regardless, 24 is here, and I’m trying to be happy about it.
The past few months, I have been actively working to take my cynicism and general Eeyore-like outlook on my life and transform it into a positivity that may never be as energetic and excited as other people’s but is at least more sustainable than the dread and doom to which I find myself naturally drawn.
I have spent birthdays thus far in my twenties disappointed in the ways I have fallen short and reminded of the things I want and still lack. So for 24, I’m trying my best to focus not on what potential this year holds, but the ways that I can enjoy what is already unfolding in front of me. Who cares what’s coming? It’s irrelevant until it’s here. I spent virtually all of 23 upset that I wasn’t where I expected to be, and truthfully it’s not an existence I think I can withstand much longer.
So here’s to being 24, nothing less and nothing more.