UPPER EAST SIDE.
I am absolutely in love with the month of February.
Yes, I read that BuzzFeed list. Yes, I understand it’s the dead of winter. Yes, yes, yes, I’ve heard it all: Valentine’s Day sucks. Why are there less days in this month?
I mean, having your birthday in February definitely makes up for a lot. (Don’t you love your birthday!?) And having been born a few days before Valentine’s Day, I’m used to having no choice but to celebrate my birthday and the, eh, ‘holiday,’ all together.
Twenty-five years later, I EMBRACE this!
So what if it’s a Hallmark holiday – I will graciously accept every and all opportunities to celebrate pink, chocolate, hearts, glitter, and the chance to tell
someone people everyone that I love & appreciate them.
We can get into the whole ‘love doesn’t have to mean romance’ conversation, but, let’s not. You know where I’m going with this. (It doesn’t have to mean romance. Get over it.)
In five days, I will finally say
a timid ‘hello’ to 25: the big milestone since turning 21 and drinking yourself into oblivion because you can legally do so, and I am feeling a decent sort of apprehensive. Caught between ‘you should be an adult and have your shit figured out’ vs. ‘you’re only 25 – have fun before you can’t!,’ I think I can genuinely say I understand the quarter-century crisis.
* * *
This is Idgie, and she single-handedly handed us our asses on a silver platter in the mere month she experienced New York City.
Serves me right: all those times I whined endlessly about wanting a man to fall in love with me, whisk me away and raise a family together. I was taught a REAL LIFE LESSON this past month: bbygrl is NOT ready to be mom – not to a human I created anyway. Not yet.
This is team ‘you’re only 25′ speaking.
Then I find myself snapping out of the standard gym, work, sleep, repeat routine and wondering what on earth am I doing? Where am I going? How do you pay a mortgage? Am I supposed to know that…? Why aren’t I in love!?
Team, ‘get your shit together,’ at the ready. 25 seems like a good age to have your shit together.
Mercury – or is it Jupiter – is currently in retrograde, and the past two weeks have been absolute hell. (Read: not my most favorite start to a February.) I’ve spent some time thinking about where I’ve been and where I’ve come from – whether that was by the forceful hand of the stars, it’s unclear – and, as a result, been hit with a few personal epiphanies.
I think I’m ready for the leap!
…That would have been much funnier if we had 29 days this year, wouldn’t it?
* * *
As you hit the “big” (my parents are definitely laughing right now. I can hear you, mom.) two-five, here are my five wishes for you:
1. Give yourself the microphone. Stop trying so hard to keep the peace and say what you think! So what if no one agrees or argues with you? Say what you mean, and most definitely, mean what you say. Enough with overdoing in the gray area – it’s time for a little more color.
2. Be unapologetic about who you are. Do not be sorry for being a
super, giant, slightly obsessed 1D fan. Do not be sorry for being sentimental. Do not be sorry for being a gym rat. Do not be sorry you like waking up early. Do not be sorry for that fourth bowl of ice cream. Do not be sorry for being unconventional. (Stay professional when necessary, but never be sorry for adding a little bit of you wherever you go.)
3. Read more. You’ve forgotten how to get lost the original way.
4. Stay driven, not jaded. You’ve come a long way, sister. There’s this thing that changes up your course of action (it’s called life), and that’s okay! You’ll get there eventually. You’ll get there, eventually. Until then, keep at it.
5. Leave that trail of glitter, everywhere. Stay positive and brighten days when you can. …Otherwise, sprinkle that crap everywhere on the h8rs.