The Roaring 20s
I turned 29 on Thursday. The number feels unreal to me. I find it hard to conceptualize that I’m old as I am. Not that I’m old, but you know, the number feels more adult than I feel myself. I’m close to the age my parents had me. Which, in of itself, feels as some sort of milestone.
I don’t have any regrets from my 20s. Sure, I’ve made a ton of mistakes but regrets no. In the mythologized idea of how 20s should be lived, I think I’ve done quite well for myself. I traveled. I loved. I learned. I challenged myself and pushed myself to achieve more than I could ever imagine. My early 20s were a mix of exploration and experimentation with the latter half focusing more on refinement, readjustment, and reinvention.
Birthday celebrations not my favorite. In fact, I dread them every time they come up each year. Not all of my birthdays have been bad. Some have been great. But the build up, the anticipation, the expectations that you’re supposed to celebrate your life in a spectacular way each year is not for me. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I just want to tell the truth. Every year I want something without much fuss. Something casual. Something where I don’t have to feel like I’m the center of the room. I want to keep the expectations so low that there’s no room or need for disappointment.
They say that time moves faster as you grow older because the new experiences you have are fewer and farther between. The mundane and the day in and day out makes it hard to concretely define the years or months of your life. I still have so many experiences left. So, sorry, time won’t be speeding up for me. I actually feel as though I’m just beginning. A rebirth of sorts. End of an era, start of another.
I’m told I should start thinking about my career, or settling down, or having kids, or buying property in a suburb. But that’s too heteronormative for me. I’m not interested. Sure, maybe a partner would be nice. The rest is not for me. I’m good. For the last year of my 20s, I’m focusing on continuing to cultivate my close network: my friends who have been around for years, my family whom I care for deeply, and the love I still have left to give to others. I’m focusing on myself and all the ways I can continue to change and grow into the person whom, I’ve never dreamt I’d become, but felt has been there in my heart of hearts forever.
I have nothing really poignant to say about aging. I guess if I were to go back and tell the 9 or 10 year old version of myself, the one who like many gay kids his age didn’t think 29 or even 30 would ever be achievable, is that life finds a way to surprise you. Life rewards you despite the challenges you face or the perseverance and sheer grit you need to live as a gay person. Not in the ways you may think, though. Not in wealth or status or fame. But in relationships and chosen families. Keep your loved ones close. Cut out the things that don’t work for you. Never apologize for who you are. And, most importantly, keep going.