Eleven days ago, I turned 28. My birthday week was spent with all of my friends and then going home to see the family. A great time was had by all and I am very loved.
Turning 28 was kind of bittersweet for me. I am no longer 27 and that makes me a little sad. I loved being 27. I loved how I felt, what I did, what all I accomplished. Being 27 made me feel alive in a way that I had never experienced before.
At first, turning 27 was quiet scary. It was the first time that my age sounded “old” to me.
Turning 25 was a jarring experience because I realized that I was now into the next age bracket. I was officially in my late twenties. When I turned 26, I went through a late “quarter life crisis” and felt kind of lost for a while. I wasn’t sure where my niche was or what I wanted to do with my life.
I can’t say with absolute certainty that being 27 helped me realize any of those things, but it definitely made me happier. I was riding on a pretty good high for half of my 27th year.
Every year, since I turned 26, I take a current photo of myself and then make a list detailing what I’ve accomplished/done/liked over the last year.
These are the previous two:
And here is the one for this year:
I am proudest of what I’ve accomplished over the last year. Even though 27 was scary, it quickly turned exciting and significant. I’ve never felt that confident, or that ready to take on anything. But being 27 made me feel like I could. It was an indescribable feeling.
I hope that 28 brings some of that electricity with it. I hope that I continue to feel happy, healthy, comfortable, and excited. I want to write another book. I want to finish up with the current one so I can sign it for friends and family. I want to read to my heart’s content and watch Netflix when it’s not a reading day. I want to be fulfilled.
And I definitely want to live out 28 the way it began: surrounded by my friends and eating delicious pizza.
Here’s to 28. I hope it’s going to be great!