I have officially been 27 years old for two days now.  Weird.  Super weird.  Getting older the last couple of years continues to stress me out.  Stop-I know what you’re thinking- “27!  You’re still so young!”  Yes, yes, so I’ve heard.  It still stresses me out.

When I was 24, I began writing a book knowing that my 25th birthday was approaching and I hadn’t accomplished anything real in my life.  I finished the first draft of the book before my birthday, and I DID feel accomplished.  I started editing.  I listened to review after review and made change after change.  I took away, I added.  I created this beautiful little story that I love dearly and will always cherish.

And then I got scared.  I stopped editing.  I stopped believing that my pretty little book was worth anything and I stopped attempting to get it published.  Then I turned 26 and I stopped writing almost altogether.  I had ideas, but seemed incapable of making anything out of them.

I joked a lot in the few weeks leading up to my 27th birthday that it was going to be 26 Part 2, because I still felt like I hadn’t accomplished anything.  Turning yet another year older and feeling like my life was out of my control and pathetic, I wanted to hide my head in the sand.  I couldn’t stand the thought of admitting that I was 27 years old and still living with my parents, still stuck in a dead end job, still blocked from writing, still alone.  But I’ve never been someone who has presented myself as anything other than who I am, so I figure I just need to get over all that shit and focus on being happy, no matter where I am in life, no matter how unsuccessful I feel or appear to the world.

I made a new friend this past Friday night, while I was out singing karaoke to celebrate the blessed event.  She asked how old I was turning and I gave her the joke answer: 26 part 2.  She said something to me that I hope I can learn to believe in.  She said that I should be excited to be who I am right now- that this year of my life is going to be amazing and I should be proud of everything I’ve accomplished in my 27 years.  She also said that I write like a hummingbird and then gave her guy friend my phone number!  We were both a little tipsy- but the sentiment holds!

So anyways.  I’m going to try and embrace year number 2-7.  If you see me complaining, you have my permission to smack me.