What is it about birthdays that gets us so pensive? The stark realization that yet another year has gone by and you’re left clamoring onto memories, or the desperate attempt at trying to figure out what you’ve accomplished over the year gone by? Or simply, that coming-of-age feeling – once celebrated, but now, dreaded as you drudge along in your late twenties.
My past year has been a trying one.
What haven't I done the past year?! I've travelled across the world six times, managed to fall in love with someone more everyday even though he was so far away, I started contributing to a publication in the US, I gave a voice to people who thought they were alone. My relationship with my parents is better than ever, I'm healthier than I've ever been before in my life (and I have Ritual to thank).
I used to get paralysed with fear and regret over every mistake I make. With age, I don't beat myself up over my occasional bad choice - I can't be right all the time, can I? I shake the regret off my shoulders, shove the lessons learnt in my pocket and soldier on. There's no point in wallowing, there's no point in making yourself feel horrible about things you can't change.
Everybody complains about turning older, but do we really want to swap our lives now for what we had five, six years ago? Five years ago, I packed my first bag for my month-long trip to China, went to Europe for the first, and then second time and I was so confused to where life was taking me and what I had to do.
I wouldn't exchange my life now, for any time of my life that I've had before. As far as I know, I am who I am today because of every single experience I've had and I wouldn't change a thing. Yes, I loved my life then, but I love all the lessons I've learnt that come with age, and I love my life today.
And as far as I know, the best has still yet to come.
P.S.: Here's my post from last year.