This Is 23

It’s 3am.

It’s 3am and I’m listening to my son babble to himself.

It’s eerily quiet tonight. Almost as if the world is holding its breath.

Happy birthday to me!

It’s 3am and I’m officially twenty-three.

It’s 3am and I’m pinching myself. How did another birthday arrive so quickly?

Where did the last year go?

Hell, where did last week go?

This time last year, I had gotten completely trollied AKA really fucked up at my best friend’s wedding. It was great. It was bad. It was just one of those things. You know? Looking back, I blame the barmen. There were a lot of times when I went for an innocent stroll and ended up with a glass of wine in my hand. I mean, it was hard to say ‘no’ when someone was holding out my favourite wine. I bet they regretted doing that once I got five or six wines deep.

This time last year, I wrote about being scared of being in a relationship. I read over that post with much head shaking and eye-rolling, but the general gist of the post is true. Too true. For the longest time, I was the cool as a cucumber nothing can phase me type of girl when it comes to dating. Want to keep it casual? I’m your girl. Want to go balls deep and go all in? Sure, until I actually start feeling something. I wrote that post as I was ‘getting to know’ someone. Ayooooo. Even then, after a few times of hanging out, I could tell that this guy was going to be trouble and I could actually maybe end up falling for him.

We all know how that turned out.

This time last year, I remember thinking that this was the last year before the rest of my life. Please ignore how cliché white girl that is and just roll with it. Last year, I was in the safety of my student bubble. People would nod approvingly when I said that I was in university. The phrase would indicate that I was going to do something big and important with my life. My last year of university was important and I was killin’ it.

This time last year, I remember telling my mother that she would be waiting a long time to get a grandchild out of me. I was adamant that I had things to do and people to see and that I wouldn’t have time for a child. Heck, I wasn’t a maternal person. I was the girl who would freeze when a baby or toddler noticed my existence. I was convinced that I was missing the crucial ‘procreate’ gene that 99% of females seem to have.

We all know how that turned out.

But you know what?

I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

If I have learned anything, it is that sometimes life just happens to you, and sometimes that is the best thing you could ask for. I wouldn’t have actively tried for a baby (maybe ever) until I found out that I was pregnant. I would have missed out on the best thing in life.

Life is messy and complicated and there are no guarantees.

Am I doing what I thought I would be doing at 23?

Well, no.

Am I mad?

Again, no.

This last year has been one of the most challenging years of my life, but it has also been the most rewarding. And you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m happy.

And I’m convinced that life will keep getting better.

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