26

30 Oct

afterlight-2

I spent the final minutes of my 25th year eating funnel cake cake and dancing it out in Malibu with some of the best people in the world.

You know when you’re a teenager and all you want is to get a glimpse of what your future self will be like?

Jumping around a dark kitchen with a ring strobe light I thought, “Okay 16-year-old self, this one’s for you.”

I hope my birthdays for the rest of my life are similarly happy.  I hope I ring in each new year with people I love and good food and some ridiculous music, just because.  I hope when I’m 50 and 72 and 95 and taller than any grandma ever was, that I still am dancing it out on my birthday, reveling in my moment as the Great Sparkling Queen Star of the Universe.

The older I get the more I think being a grownup is a journey not a destination.  It’s not a spot that I will just “arrive at” one day because I turn 26 or because I have a real budget or because of anything going on in my life. Being a grownup is a slow, sometimes painful limp towards the person I want to be.

Yesterday I limped along with funnel cake and glitter skirts a whole lot of love.

I have good feelings about this 26 thing.

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