I thought I was a genius, but now I’m 22
I’ve always put a lot of pressure on my birthday to be the most perfect day. I blame my parents. They gave me birthdays that were almost too good to be true, and it’s hard to recreate that magic as an adult. But how could you possibly recreate the energy of a bunch of girls in old dance recital costumes piling into a limo and going to eat at a restaurant far too nice for 10 year olds covered in sequins? You can’t.
Don’t fret, I understand that there is much much more to a birthday than bossing everyone around and having a filet mignon (but I do still enjoy those parts). I spent my 22nd with some of the people I love most in the world. The theme of this last year has been love, of all kinds. I could cry thinking about how lucky I am to have so many people that love and support me. To have parents that would go to the ends of the earth for me. To have friends that are quick to wipe my tears or cheer me on. To have a brother who has my back (most of the time). It feels really special to know there’s always someone in my corner. It makes life a lot less scary.
And the best part is to know that I deserve the love that people have to give. And to know that I would go to the ends of the earth and cheer and support in return, because they deserve it too.
Last year I made a “21 things at 21” list. I’m not creative enough to come up with another 22 things, but I do still have some silly little thoughts to share.
You should think highly enough of yourself to recognize that you deserve the love people give you. You should do the things that scare you the most. Hating Taylor Swift is synonymous with hating women. Once you learn how to correctly make your coffee at home, Starbucks tastes bad. I think blondes actually do have more fun. Country music is not that bad. Every 20-something-year-old woman should read Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton. Songs of the year are “From Austin” by Zach Bryan and “The Man with the Axe” by Lorde.
I mean, but what do I know? I’m only 22!
