I turned 25 on Thursday, and as such, I've gotten to enjoy a few sweet birthday celebrations over the past week. It's got my thinking about age, as birthdays obviously do. What I've landed on is this: age is good.
In the midst of having momentary quarter-life crises and noticing the excess of gray hairs sprouting from my bangs, what I've also noticed is that with each passing year of life, I'm more comfortable in my own skin.
I understand more about the things I like and hate. I speak my opinions with greater frequency. I don't worry if I forgot to put make-up on when I bump into someone in the grocery store. I laugh at myself not out of discomfort, but from the enjoyment of the general absurdity of life. I just know myself better-- the same way you do when you spend more and more time with a friend.
There is some sort of tendency in our world to mourn the passing of time as though we are losing something. And yet, it all just seems so much more like gain. The way that water washing over and over a stone refines it into something unique, I find that time passing over me with greater frequency provides me this fuller sense of self.
I'll admit that as I get older, I tend to freak-out about not being enough yet. In those moments, I forget that while I may not be complete, I am at least more. That is something beautiful and good.
Each day I get to carry this greater-realized spirit around with me, and she will grow and grow and grow.
What i'm getting at with all of this is that we just aren't static creations. We are people becoming something, and I for one am grateful for age - for that tiny reminder that I'm another year further along is knowing what that something is.
