Tomorrow I turn 23. I recently read a blog post my new friend and colleague wrote about turning 25 and I thought I might as well document the beginning of this new year in my life too. She said a lot of smart things about how life is nowhere near what she had imagined it would be and I can honestly say the same.
Twenty three (or is is twenty-three? when do you use dashes in numbers? it remains a mystery to me) is a strange age. You don't have the Taylor Swift song anymore. Speaking of, I should be playing that nonstop today. You have that blink-182 song, but I'm not sure that it's the most inspiring song. The early 20s just feel incredibly unstable and not as glamorous as I once thought they would be. At the beginning of college even, I saw the seniors and was like, "They have it all together. Someday I'll be like them" Why I need to learn the lesson over and over again that no one has it together, I don't know. In this day and age, that strange rollercoaster of emotions and jobs and life choices are what the 20s are about for those of us privileged enough to grow up in the U.S. Figuring out what you're doing. Failing miserably. Succeeding with the rawest sort of joy.
As a woman 50 years ago, things would have been different. I would have perhaps been married, maybe with kids, or I would have been waiting for that fateful (and very near) day when a man would come and carry me off into the sunset. Now in 2016, at 23, I am not going to lie and say that I don't wish sometimes that that mysterious man would come. Most 20-something women (I won't say all because I'm sure someone will disagree) would say that they wished that wasn't a desire of theirs but it is. Somehow we have started to feel like it's a weakness to want a partner in life. Which I am just as guilty of as anyone else. This mystery man could carry me off into the sunset, if he could carry me; I don't have the greatest track record with finding guys who can physically carry me. That being said, I don't want my personal life to end the minute I'm married, like it may have 50 years ago. I want both of our lives and desires to matter. And yet, I don't want the individuals in my family, myself included, to be driven first and foremost by a desire for personal fulfillment. I know that we are taught to "do what makes us happy" first and think later. But I want my family to love each other first and then love themselves second. I want to be someone who loves others more than I love myself. Something I'm still working on, and something impossible certainly on my willpower alone. "Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." John 15:13. I'm not sure why this is on my mind tonight, but it is so why not write about it.
Anyways, now this post does not past the Bechtel test (where are my Jane the Virgin fans out there?) but alas, I don't really care. Who knows, maybe only men are reading this blog, which means it doesn't past the test anyways. (In other news, I do think that's a pretty interesting test and I'm all for it.)
So, I am about to turn 23. I am about to move to France again and I get to do a LOT of cool things. I get to speak French everyday. I get to meet new people and learn about them. I get to share myself with others. I get to share what I know to be true about God with others. I get to serve the community. I get to visit dear friends. I get to live a life that I never ever imagined. I can honestly tell you all that I NEVER imagined I would be going to France so often or in such a capacity when I was a little girl or even a few years ago. I am grateful for all that I have gotten to experience and all that I will get to. As hard as this next year will be and as much as I will miss my family and friends (read: A LOT), I am so grateful.
Thank you to those of you who have played a role in this, you know who you are. And happy 23rd birthday to meeeee!
