23

Yesterday, my roommates and best friends gave me a wonderful opportunity for reflection on my birthday this year. They asked me what my favorite part of my twenty-second year of life was, as well as what I am looking forward to for my twenty-third.

Truthfully, I don’t think about my age all that much. But when given the opportunity to reflect on the past year, I realized just how much I’ve struggled in my twenties thus far, but also how much I have overcome.

My answer was simply put as “my favorite part of 22 was coming home.” I remember a time not that long ago where healing was my number one priority. I lived alone and was scared to come home to be by myself everyday. Reflecting on today, in my twenty-second year of life, my home is now a place that feels so safe to return to. This is one of the first times in my life, if not the first, I can confidently say I’m happy when I go home.

I feel like 22 was kind of set-up for me. I knew I’d be in Austin at least one more year through the end of undergrad, so my priority was to enjoy life outside of that. I am fortunate to have a job that I love, to live alongside the most special and supportive people, and to invest time into relationships that feed my truest self.

23 scares me. The next year will be filled with loads of question marks and endless opportunity. I don’t know where I will be come December 11, 2024, but as long as I stay true to the life I have found in 22, I know I will be okay.

It’s easy to forget about all the hard things we do. Struggling with my perfectionism continues to be a daily battle for me, but we aren’t meant to be perfect. We are meant to be real. And real life throws some major shit our ways. In my workout class today, the instructor reminded us that challenges are opportunities. Returning to the question asked by my friends, I am looking forward to the unknown opportunities that 23 will present me. I don’t need to be perfect this year, I just need to be real.