Now that I am older and have missed plenty of birthdays with family, I find that celebrating is simply an acknowledgment that another year has passed. I like to personally treat birthdays like a new year. My birthday is what January 1st is for everyone else. It marks the first day of a brand new year and anticipation for what will be this year's milestone.
Since I turned 20, I have been paying attention to what major moment defines each age. Some of them are extremely personal, so I won't share them all, but I will say that 22 and 23 have been significant for my growing up process and moving into my mid-20s.
At 22, I had a nightmarish internship in Milan, which still gives me small panic attacks when I think about it. Today TriBeCa reminded me a little too much of Milan and I felt extremely uncomfortable. But the point is, this internship seriously made me grow up. It strengthened my spiritual faith, but my heart broke, my dreams shattered and I felt like I needed to start all over again. I turned 23 a week after I returned home from that internship and at 23 I applied to and started at NYU.
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| Self-portrait on February 6, 2016 in NYC |
23 marks the age I moved to NYC and I think that takes the cake for this age's milestone. Can anything really top that major life-changing move? Probably not.
So now, one week from celebrating one month in New York City and six months into my 23rd year, I have to say I feel like I am exactly where I am meant to be. I still don't have a job (but interviews are lining up) and I have started racking up unwanted student loan debt, but I have this incredible feeling that the divine plan for my life is unveiling. Whatever God has been cooking up for me is starting to be served in courses and though I am only at the appetizer, it tastes unbelievable. I cannot wait for the main course.
So, here's to six more months of 23 and whatever lies before me.
To quote the Mad Hatter: "a very merry unbirthday to me!"
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