It’s 6:30 in the morning, I took a nap around midnight which is strange because whenever I’ve tried to nap that late before it just turned into a full nights sleep. This time I woke up a couple hours later and didn’t realize it was my birthday until someone asked what I was doing later on today. Now, it’s 6:30 in the morning and I’m trying to watch an episode of Grace and Frankie before I try to go back to sleep, but the WiFi is trippin…and the remote won’t work. It feels weird that today doesn’t feel that special. And I feel like God is forcing me to reflect on my life instead of begrudgingly celebrating another year of not really being able to celebrate the way I want. So I started writing this.
I feel like 29 is still such a long way off in the distance. I’m lying here thinking about how I feel all of the awkwardness of my 14 year old self. Interesting.
I’m not going to write about how this is the last year I have to become a millionaire before I turn 30. Or how I feel like I’m playing catch up with the world still and I’m almost at the age where I’m too old to be adorable and too young for anyone to really care about what I have to say.
I will, however write about how after 9 years of thinking I’m grown I finally feel like I’ve hit puberty. My baby fat is finally growing up and taking it’s rightful place in the form of a womanly figure. At the same time, my skin is doing something new where it acts as if we’ve just met. Me and my uterus are not friends, but I’m vowing to change that this year. Me and my hair is cool, though. Those years of me hating it and abusing it for not being good enough seem like a distant memory as it’s now flourishing because I let it be. We’ve made peace. I haven’t weighed myself in months but I’ve regained access to that half of the closet I thought I’d just end up dropping off at goodwill. Spring is about to be lit! I’m unemployed (wink) and somehow I’m supposed to feel bad about that. *Shrug* I’m so happy, which you probably couldn’t tell upon a brief review of my social media. It’s just that I hate social media because social media makes me hate people and I want to like people and that makes me bitter on social media. I’m as silly as ever in person though. Ask my boyfriend, with whom I’m absolutely, unequivocally, stupidly in love with. He’s my very best friend after Jesus.
I’m currently battling my need to recede within myself as a means of self preservation. Just enough so that I can play one of the biggest personalities in theatre: Miss Effie White. Bruh…I’m sweating cuz I realized how much work I have to do in a small amount of time. No, not learning scripts or choreo, those are welcomed challenges compared to the work I have to do on myself. Which entails the daunting task of doing absolutely nothing while God does everything. How am I already almost 30?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not having some kind of crisis, i just feel much much younger. I’m a late bloomer in every sense of the phrase. And if there’s anything I want to accomplish in my last year of being foolish and 20-something, is to stop apologizing for that. I’ve come to accept that In the past I’ve always been just a little too late for the party and that sometimes that’s because in a lot of ways, I’m ahead of the curve. A conundrum, bruh.
It’s 7:12 pm. I’m at the studio and I’ve now been writing this all day. Well…almost. I took a moment to finish reading that Badu interview. I realized that I’ve become a cynic about these things because I’m usually disappointed by the fact that birthdays only highlight how much the people around you don’t actually know you. Forced smiles, awkward hugs, me wondering why anyone including me even bothered to show up. Am I trippin? Is this politically correct to say? Sorry, mom. I don’t wanna hate my birthday. It’s just that I didn’t go through those crying, snotty nosed talks with God not to be able to be honest and frank about my feelings. Most people are allergic to honest and frank. It makes them irrational.
I’m self aware enough to acknowledge the fact that I don’t know how to live in the present. My whole life has been formed around working to get through tomorrow and that’ll be goal number 2 of year 29: to stop wishing for tomorrow when things will be how I want and enjoy today and the way things already are. I owe it to myself and those I love.
To myself: I’m sorry, girl. I forgive you for not being a more acceptable version of yourself. I promise to love you exactly the way you are. The way God loves you. Happy Birthday, gawjuss!! Today will be good if you want it to be. I love you, forreal. I’m not just saying that.
Now enjoy some obligatory wee Indy pics 🙂
The Thrift Maven
p.s. Happy Birthday to Alicia Keys, the Late Great Etta James, and my bro in music Haru.