The One Where I Lived Forward
I couldn’t slow time down, but I could stop missing it.
The morning of my 28th birthday began like any other birthday with a slight headache and puffy face from the night before and notifications from my vast network wishing me happy birthday. Text messages, Instagram stories, Snapchat memories filled with photos and videos from years past, reminding me how many people I had loved and been loved by over 28 years.
But the reality of time, fear of its speed, and the disbelief that came with it hit harder than I thought it would. Memories from high school, college, and even just my 26th birthday a couple years ago had me focusing on my rapid breathing. Seeing younger versions of myself made me want to give her a big hug and tell her to take it all in.
“No way I’m not 23 anymore?”
Suddenly, I was thinking all too hard about how many years, people, and memories have passed me by without truly feeling the gravity of it all. It was like I had been cruising through life without slowing down…God forbid stopping. For a while, life was efficient. I moved from one obligation to the next without friction. It worked. I have been in “the zone.”
But when I looked back, there were no chapters, just distance. Somewhere along the way, I realized I hadn’t actually been holding onto the moment. I had just been moving through it.
This scared the shit out of me.
I didn’t want to wake up when I was 29 practicing the same box breathing techniques. Another year of needing a photo to remember. I wanted to begin 29 knowing I experienced what I lived and be present enough to name it later. I didn’t need to overhaul my life. I just needed to start noticing it and participate in it differently.
One workout class became the time I forgot my socks and had to borrow some from a stranger. A simple trip to store turned into the night I made my now famous homemade steak dinner that I’ve tried to replicate since. That random bar we almost didn’t go to? It’s now a story we can’t stop telling.
But not every moment is small. Some are temporary. The sound of my best friend making breakfast in the kitchen. Saying “should we…?” when we know better and doing it anyway. I started booking weekend trips the Wednesday before. The season of life where you only answer to yourself.
I can feel the edges of this era. I don’t know when it will change, but I refuse to miss it.
I began to create chapters on purpose. I would plan for the kind of stories I wanted to tell. When I daydreamed, they weren’t allowed to stall in my consciousness. I reverse engineered them. I’d pre-save for trips that I hadn’t imagined yet so I could book them later on a whim. I imagined the laughs and insides jokes made around a Friendsgiving table and would text the group chat to make them real.
I quit hoping I’d remember later. I started shaping it while I could.
This year, I woke up on my 29th birthday with the same headache, the same puffy face, and stream of notifications lighting up my phone. This year with a smile before even opening them. I remembered the photos without needing a caption. I didn’t feel behind. I felt inside of my life.
The last year hadn’t slowed down.
I just decided to attack it differently.
Planning backward freed me to live forward.
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