Twenty-three and Me
To me...
A birthday is a lot of things; it’s a celebration that you made it through another year of life, it’s a time to look back at the past year and see how you can improve, and a time to look forward at the year ahead to see where you’re going. It’s also a great time to smother the inevitable existential crisis with a greasy bloomin onion and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s (Fish Food if you were curious).
If you haven’t noticed this is the obligatory, “No one likes you when you’re 23 post.”
I’m not one to try and compare myself to other people or concern myself with the opinions of others, (I say that and yet I get mad when people don’t like my shit on Facebook...) but there I was sitting across from my parents who, at my age were living on their own with a one year old (my sister not me) fully capable of surviving. Yours truly, on the other hand, is having his birthday dinner at Outback (where everybody dreams of celebrating such a momentous occasion), still living with my parents, and measuring my self worth by how many people wrote on my wall wishing me a happy birthday (so I wasn’t feeling all that great). Pretty much the opposite end of the spectrum from where my parents were at. I feel like I’m putting in some effort into my life which is a good start, I guess. I’m working a steady job, I work on the weekends, I write these things, I eat healthy (minus the bloomin onion...and the Ben & Jerry’s), I go to the gym, I have a retirement account (which is terrifying in its own right), but yet there’s still this indiscernible pressure that makes me feel like it’s not enough.
This feeling of inadequacy turns from a low rumble throughout the year to an unignorable alarm on your birthday when you’re forced to evaluate where you’re at in life. I’m sure I’m not the only one that feels this way but it’s still isolating. You don’t want to bring it up because whatever anybody says doesn’t really help. You’re able to rationalize it away with, “Oh they’re just saying that to make me feel better.” I don’t know if this feeling of inadequacy ever goes away, especially in a generation that, through social media, is constantly faced with the accomplishments of others. Maybe we just get used to it.
Twenty-three isn’t a benchmark age, by any means, but it feels older, weightier, a more powerful descriptor than 22. Twenty-three is almost 25, which is basically 30 once you’re 30 you’re almost 40 and after that you’re basically a dead person who hasn’t died yet. Twenty-two is more of a, “good job you didn’t die once you could legally drink alcohol.” It doesn’t get you a ton of respect but at least it’s recognition that you’re not a complete idiot. Twenty-three is like someone’s pointing to the clock like, “you have approximately five years to get your shit together, get crackin.” Which is SUPER comforting.
So all in all I think it’s pretty obvious I had a good birthday. Minus the the whole, slow creep of death thing I’m pretty optimistic about what the next year holds. I’m in relative good health, I’m happy most days, and I’m in a great position to trick my friends and family into believing I have my shit together. What more could one ask for?