Reflections in 2023
The Panic Years, can be said.
That’s how my 20’s have felt anyway, a panic to be perfect, to have everything figured out before 30, a panic to stay ahead of the cost of living crisis, buy a house, all whilst staying present because ”You are only in your 20’s once”, remember? a panic when people’s success on LinkedIn makes your stomach drop or panic when you’ve got no plans on a Friday night but the rest of Instagram stories does, a panic to constantly self improve, to read more books until reading more books becomes more of the chore than a hobby, that you do, just to tick off a to do list. A panic to make people proud, to spend time with aging grandparents, plans with friends and skincare.
Quite frankly, I am tired of panicking about the panic years. But I know, I’m going to continue to panic about them anyway.
Sometimes getting older is an act of spite. A rebellion against a world that does not want you to survive. It’s how we say ”fuck you” to a society that tries to kills us but sometimes growing old is gentler. It is joyous. It’s something we do because we love the world and we want to see more of it. And the world, in return, loves us and wants to see more of us. Every year I learn to be gentle with myself, the sentence ”It’s okay, we learn to be better” is a sentence that is rooted in my heart. Trying not to compare my life with others, trying to…
