Birthdays as an Adult
On the day that this post will be live, I will be turning the ripe old age of 24. I know, I’ll basically be ancient at that point. Social security and retirement, HERE I COME! haha. But in all honesty, I’ve noticed a shift this year in how I view my birthday, and birthdays in general.
When I was a child, or just younger in general, I was all about my birthday. I felt entitled to talking about my birthday and celebrate the fact that I was born basically the entire month of November. Every single year seemed to take eons in order for me to reach that crux of officially turning another year older. Since my birthday correlates with a major American holiday, Thanksgiving, I always had the opportunity to celebrate with my entire family. We would always have normal Thanksgiving, and finish it off with a birthday cake after the meal. My Grandma Marjorie always tried to make me her Italian Creme Cake (my absolute favorite) and I felt so special because of it. To put it mildly, I was obsessed with my birthday.
Looking forward to this year’s birthday, I’m not as enthusiastic as I used to be. One of the things that really made me realize that “WOW. I really am an adult.” was when I was shopping at Target with my mom. Whenever I go shopping with my mom, she takes wayyyyyyyyy longer than I would like to get things accomplished. During this trip, we also ended up getting separated in the store with me having both the cart and her purse, which contained her cell phone. While I was waiting for her to magically appear, I was looking through the card section. I saw the birthday cards and realized that there weren’t any number cards for this birthday. I mean there weren’t any for my 23rd birthday either, but that was special for me in that it was my GOLDEN birthday and it was on my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. And I don’t think there were any for my 22nd birthday either, but that is the TAYLOR SWIFT birthday. Haven’t you heard “22'“?!?! I remember hearing that song in high school and I couldn’t wait to turn 22 just so I could sing along to the song…. as a 22-year-old.
This year, 24, appears to be the “real” beginning of adulthood. Not that first taste of freedom you receive when you turn 16 and get your driver’s license. Not 18 when you can pay taxes, join the military (or be drafted if you are a male), buy a lottery ticket, or do things as a legal adult. Not 20 when you finally get out of being a teenager and are a “mature” person in your twenties. Not 21 when you can head to the bars and buy your first alcoholic beverage (something I have not actually done, but to each their own). The age of twenty-four seems to be the age when you’re taking the risks necessary to figure out what direction you want your life to be heading into. You’re still a year too young to not have to pay extra for a rental vehicle.
Currently to me, I view 25 as the point when you really have to buckle down and be a grown up and think about buying houses, 401k’s, marriage, children, and the true responsibilities that come with adulthood. At least those that go beyond getting to eat ice cream for dinner, if you really, really want to. I know a lot of my friends on Facebook and real life at my age, or younger, have already gotten started on some of these. But, I know we are all on our own journey and have our own paths to take.
This year for my birthday, I have no real celebrations planned, and I’m actually okay with that. I get to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family, something I missed last year. It’s turned into just another day and I’m kinda okay with that. I’ve realized the most important things aren’t things (as absolutely cliche as that really is), but the people you care about and have the privilege of spending time with are truly the most important of all. But, I do plan on making my own Italian Creme Cake and taking it to my Thanksgiving celebration with my dad’s side since Grandma won’t be around this year to make it.