Happy Birthday to me.
I’m very thankful to make it to 26. There were a lot of instances where I didn’t think I’d make it to next year but I did. 26 times. Certainly blessed to say it however this year feels a little different. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re one month into a historic pandemic or if it’s because nobody cares about your birthday after 25. It could be a little bit of both with a mix of all of the ‘late twenties self doubt’ cycle.
Twenty six is not wanting to remind your friends about your birthday because you know that nobody fucking cares and has real shit going on but you are slightly sad when nobody remembers.
Twenty six is gifting yourself expensive anti-aging self care products that you’ll likely use one time and forget about and let it sit on your shelf for the next year.
Twenty six is having a big breakfast delivered to your doorstep instead of cooking one yourself.
Twenty six is feeling like you’ve somewhat got your shit together because you’re not in that 23 year old bullshit but also afraid of the quickly approaching 30s.
Twenty six is holding on to the fact that you’re not “old” because you’re not like 28 (ew) yet.
Twenty six is wanting someone to talk to but not wanting to commit to the length of the conversation so you just call your mom instead.
Twenty six is accepting all past choices and not overthinking any previous decisions. “I’ve made it this far”
Twenty six is letting go of anything outside of your control. You’ve lived this long enough to know that nothing is fully in your control so you’re rolling with it.
Twenty six is wanting to settle down but also not wanting to give up our 20s just yet.
Twenty six is confident and a little less brutal to their self image.
Twenty six is down for a good time but as long as they’re home before midnight. Not because they’re tired but because what the fuck is there to do after midnight? (that 23 year old bullshit)
Twenty six wants to raise a puppy.
Twenty six doesn’t have patience for meaningless conversations.
Twenty six makes time for hobbies and little joys in life.
Twenty six is tired but still hungry to achieve anything.
Twenty six is hopeful for a relaxing future and praying that all of this hard work will pay off.
Twenty six is a staple.
It’s the pivoting moment to define the years of your long-term future. But at the same time, who fucking cares? No one. No one cares because this is your moment. It’s a spiritual journey.
You know what you want and what you don’t want. You know who you are (for the most part) and you know where you want to be in life (also for the most part). You’ve already cut off toxic friendships and things that no longer bring you peace. You take accountability for your actions and drama is almost non-existent at this point because you don’t involve yourself in any ‘fuckery’.
So you make a commitment.
One that you’ve slightly lived by but never committed to because you were preoccupied in other shit and have been putting your dreams on the back burner for years now. But now you’re 26, time to pivot.
You commit to pursuing your dreams. You commit to taking care of yourself but not just face masks and wine whenever you have an inconvenience but you commit to dieting and treating your body right. You commit to sculpting your future and buckling down before the big three zero. You commit to your passion.
And you commit to being unapologetic about it.
This is 26.
– Raina Mae, 04/21/20