Third Decade of Life

Mood: Pensive but Content
Music: Blue Monday (Jori Hulkkonen Mix #2) - Flunk
Date/Time: Tuesday, 5th January, 2010/10:50AM

A thought occurred to me on New Year's Day, as I laid in bed in the afternoon attempting to get some sleep: "New years are like birthdays: you know something is different but it takes you a few months to feel the difference..."

And it's true, today is the 5th January, 2010 and I have yet to write the date by hand, I've only done it in digital form and without explaining the obvious mental effect this has: it doesn't feel real to me.


I can still remember watching the ball drop in Time's Square on 31st December, 1999. I can still remember listening to the music at the Pegasus Hotel on 31st December, 2000. I can still remember listening to the DJ play his own version of "Auld Lang Syne" on 31st December, 2001.

Where did the past 10 years go? When did I become an adult? In this, my third decade of life, and in my 25th year of existence - still at the tender age of 24 years old - when did I become an adult?
And more importantly, why is it that sometimes I still feel like I have the same mind I did at 15?
I feel in some ways, I think on the same level when it comes to reasoning and associations to memory - but at the same time - I feel so far removed from myself at 15. Clearly I've grown mentally, and as a person.

My 15 year old self certainly had a drama-filled life, and adventures of her own. But my 15 year old self didn't live alone, hold a full-time job or pay bills. My 15 year old self didn't have to deal with politics, resident bitchy office secretaries, to-do lists that NEEDED to get done, or clients that are convinced they are my only client. My 15 year old self didn't have to deal with insecure wives, insecure girlfriends, insecure mothers, or insecure grown men who need the constant reassurance that I will not betray their trust or confidence.

But my 15 year old self did have to deal with an abusive boyfriend, and 10 years removed from that situation - perhaps my 24 year old self is better off than my 15 year old self. If I could write a letter from myself now, to myself then it would be summed up in this one paragraph:

"Dear 15 year old self: you might not see it now but you are the strongest person I have ever known on an intimate level and things might seem rough now but these experiences are the cornerstone of the immensely strong and beautiful spirit you will possess as an adult. Remember the pain but don't let it define you. Remember how you feel in these moments, because everything you experience now will become the fuel that lights the fire of your passion for writing. Hold on to the memories, but do not let them control you.
Love, your 24 year old self."

My 24 year old self is happier, stronger and still confused about boys. But now I am sure that while men are stupid, they do not have cooties. They have penises, and honestly...that's one of the best features about them.

Love,
Ally.

Photo Credit: Hair Getting Did; Wednesday, 30th December, 2009