Yup, today is my birthday. I am officially 25 years old.
I have been alive for a quarter of a century (this is HUGE!) and when I think of it that way I am still YOUNG, really young. I have an entire 3/4 of century left to live (this of course is assuming that I’ll live to be 100) which makes me extremely happy and excited. I don’t like celebrating my birthday, anyone else’s birthday and I’m all in but my birthday, nah what for? This birthday was no different, last night my husband cooked me an amazing meal, we picked up a tiny cheesecake at Molly’s for dessert, the evening couldn’t have been better. But then I started to wonder what the #25 symbolized, I did all sorts of google searches trying to come up with a good enough meaning to the number 25 and I came up with nothing.
The phrase a quarter of a century kept replaying in my mind and it’s hard to ignore. If I simply say “I am 25 years old” it bares little to no significance but if I say “I have lived a quarter of century” now that my friends, that’s something. So I began to think of all the things that I have done, failed to do, completed, the things that have happened to me (good and bad), all of my accomplishments and I am happy to say that I am proud with what I have done in the last 25 years, not everything has been peachy but I am proud.
Now comes the hardest part, deciding what I’ll do with the next quarter of a century. I just hope and pray that whatever choices and decisions I make will only lead me to the place where I can look back and I say, I have over come fear, I stepped outside of my comfort zone, I took a leap of faith, I gave it my all, I tried my best. I hope to look back and be proud of myself.