An ode to 23

On getting a year older and looking back at your younger self.

I celebrated my 24th birthday last month.

It felt a little strange being away from home, but I guess that’s just part of growing up.

I look back at my year as a 23-year-old and reflect on how it went.

The truth is, I liked being 23.

23 was the year that has tested me the most.

Planning a wedding, quitting my job, being unemployed, getting a new job, getting married, saying goodbye to everyone back home, moving away from the place you were born and raised, moving to a new state, figuring out the first five months of marriage, figuring out a new city… 23 was pretty eventful.

I feel like this year was the one that broke me open and then put me back together.

It was the year where I figured out that your 20s are filled with a lot of heavy expectations, some of them rational, but a lot of them irrational…

There’s the pressure of starting a business or a family. The pressure of becoming a millionaire before you’re 30. The pressure of traveling and seeing the whole world. The pressure of moving to a new city and successfully starting your life there.

Just the pressure of having any type of success at all in this decade.

23 graciously taught me that this pressure is false and only exists within the illusion of my phone. It taught me that real life is full of quiet moments, quiet mistakes like burning dinner, but also quiet triumphs like building a piece of furniture.

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I will always look back at 23 with a lot of tenderness and memory.

I feel as if 23-year-old me is suspended in time and will always remain immortalized, whether it be in my wedding pictures or in my heart.

23 tossed and turned me, but in the end helped me land on my feet.

Moving into a new city took a lot of faith.

I never toured the apartment we ended up moving into; instead, I took my husband’s word that it was spacious and would serve our needs for the first years of marriage.

Moving to Ohio in the middle of winter was not beautiful. The naked trees and surprisingly wet and green grass were unlike what I was used to in the Chihuahuan desert of Texas.

I knew almost immediately that it would be a struggle to be away from friends and family, and that it would force me out of my shell and into a newer and bigger one.

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Despite all its challenges, I’m grateful for who I became this year.

Even though aging is frightening, it’s also a gift I embrace with lots of gratitude.

I’m grateful for every heartbeat and every breath that fills my lungs.

I’m grateful for every sore muscle I wake up to.

I’m grateful for every loose strand of hair that falls from my head (even if I fear my hair is thinning out).

I’m grateful for 23.

-Cristina 💐