the look.

I call it my “waiting for my husband to return home from war” look.

Most of those I work with know it well.

It’s a stare, seemingly into the abyss. A faraway look that contradicts my physical presence. Like I’m there, but not really there.

The shell looks good, put together with nametag clipped and lipstick on, but on the inside, I am distant, sad. I often experience overwhelming feelings of disappointment in my life and where it’s going.

Or in this case, not going. At least in the way I thought it would.

You can find me longingly staring out the window waiting for my husband to return home from war most often at work, especially when I’m wiping menus.

When going to that far off place, I think about how tragic I am, aged twenty-five, wiping menus at a restaurant. As a fashion educated woman with a distinctive style and flair for the dramatic, I feel sorry for myself for the fact that this, wiping dirty menus and seating people at their tables, is what I wound up doing with my life.

Oftentimes I spiral. My stares become a permanent fixture on my face as my mind wanders down that deep, dark, insecure rabbit hole of feeling worthless and unaccomplished.

Comparing my life to those around me, I feel left behind.

I’m not married. I’m not pregnant. I’m not making six figures. My life looks nothing like that picture-perfect Instagram feed my friends have, and most anxiety producing- where’s my magazine, the one I’ve been dreaming of publishing since I was 18 years old?

The past few weeks though, have been the worst, especially because I had a birthday coming up.

A big birthday.

The kind of birthday that put me closer to thirty than age twenty.

You can imagine then, that those wicked feelings of not living up to my potential would be even stronger.

So yeah, I dreaded this birthday. I mean for weeks, I simply shuddered at the thought of officially being closer to thirty, having accomplished (in my eyes) seemingly nothing.

As the days wound down to the big day, I debated on what I should do. Should I even have people over? Or acknowledge this birthday’s existence? How can I toast this celebration if I feel so horrible about myself and all the things I didn’t accomplish in my early twenties?

In the end, I knew myself, and recognized that I would feel even worse if I spent this foreboding day by myself. And so, on the morning of my twenty-sixth birthday, I decided to embrace the day and celebrate.

And do you know what?

It was one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.

Spent in company of those who made me laugh, dance, drink, and eat cake to my heart’s content, I ended the eve with a smile on my face and joy in my soul. Feeling overwhelmed by my friends’ and families’ generosity and thoughtfulness, I forgot about turning “older” and just enjoyed being with people who honestly made me feel young.

I discovered that age is just a number. That being closer to thirty didn’t mean I still couldn’t do all that I had dreamt of doing. That, even though I haven’t (yet) accomplished all I thought I would at this age, I should look around me and start appreciating all that I have done.

Like the fact that I bought a house. (I bought a house!)

I turned my family business around and made it successful.

I gave the most adorable cat with frost-bitten ears a home.

My work got published in a magazine.

I met the sweetest gem.

I’ll admit, it’s still challenging to accept, this being ok with getting older. As my grandma pointed out to me, “Just wait until you’re closer to eighty than you are to seventy!” And hey- she’s living her best life.

While the years are passing quicker than they did as a kid, I’ve gotta say: damn girl! look at all the growth and change and looooove in your life and be grateful for where you are. Don’t reminisce about all you didn’t do. Don’t be anxious about what you still have left to do. Just accept that you’re here, with a cat on your lap, in the house that you bought with that look on your face that isn’t wearing longing, pity, and disappointment, but joy. Young and pure joy.

(because in the grand scheme of things, I’m still oh-so-very young)