27 Candles

I’m turning 27 and everything seems to be going up and downhill at the same damn time.

On one hand, I am extremely excited to be inching closer to my 30s. All our lives we are led to believe that being a 20-something is where it’s at, but honestly it’s starting to seem like that’s just a scam to distract us from the reality that it’s just as confusing a time as our teens.

This period of my life definitely comes with some wisdom, experience and freedom, but money is still tight, relationships are as mystifying as ever and being solely responsible for myself and my well-being is absolutely insane and shouldn’t be allowed.

Against my better judgement, I’m inclined to believe that the older I get, the more things will start to align and make sense. This belief alone is keeping me going, honestly, and whether it’s true is something I’m not willing to face. So, if you’re older and want to burst my bubble, rather don’t.

I’ve always felt that being 30 would just bring a natural elegance and grace to me that I do not possess right now. I feel like I’ll be prettier and healthier and skinnier, and that all the flailing about I’ve been up to as of late will miraculously begin to add up.

I look back on the last seven years and all I see are lessons learnt. In extreme hindsight, I understand so much more than I ever could, and I’m starting to feel a bit more stable and balanced. This is why I’m optimistic about ageing and putting all the insight to good use.

Honestly, I wish I knew the things I know now (about myself and the world) when I was 20. If I could relive these last few years, I just know I would absolutely kill it.

Maybe that’s why adding a year to my age is such a bittersweet experience. Not just good, but a tiny bit daunting.

Yes, I’ve definitely learnt a lot and grown immensely, but seriously it would be great to be 22 again with all that I know now.

On top of that, the reality of my own mortality just becomes clearer and clearer with each additional candle on the cake.

It terrifies me to think that my life will just end up being a series of confusing events – and then my funeral.

On top of all of that, my body is changing. I’ve gained more weight than I’m willing to admit to myself or anyone else. Waking up early is such a nightmare. Finding motivation is a near impossible task.

On the brightest of sides though, the longer I live, the more my dreams keep evolving and changing. I dedicated a lot of my time to figuring out what I wanted to do and be, and through all the ups and downs and uncertainties, I finally feel like I have a clue.

I spent the last 10 years of my life becoming who I am right now, and I realise that ’twas all necessary so that I could understand what I needed to do for the next 10-year chunk.

I’ve bigger and better goals and dreams, I’ve a more lucid picture of where I’m headed and I’ve a stronger spirit and thicker skin. I’m truly excited because making mistakes and faltering now and then has not killed my spirit or dampened my resolve.

That kinda makes it worth all the stress in my mind. The idea that if I keep pushing forward, I’ll eventually find what I’m looking for.

– Anne Hambuda is a poet, writer, social commentator and media personality. Email her at annehambuda@gmail.com for more.

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