I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22. Finally! I am able to say that line without having to change the number.
I have never given much thought to about this day until twenty-two hours ago. The past couple of years came and faded in time; all the comings and goings led me to where I am right now. And even though the cliché is something that would no longer appeal to most, it still amazes me how time flies so fast in almost a flashing blur.
I was born in Zamboanga City, Philippines on March 9, 1994.
For most of us, birthday signifies a deeper meaning in our lives. How can it not be? It’s the day we came in to this world. To have reached a certain age is a celebratory milestone as some of us will not even reach a year old upon birth. On the other hand, for some, it’s just an ordinary day where we take a break off from the toxicity of our daily routine – a breather.
To be honest, I don’t have concrete descriptions of what birthdays are for me. Personally, I account this unknowing to my poor experience in the past. You see, I grew up to a frugal family. One that will not spend for birthday parties at school or anywhere. A simple celebration at home will do and it was enough for me to say I am still blessed and fortunate. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why my parents did that and I don’t have any bad blood. But lately, I have been thinking how things would have turned out if I got the chance to experience those things I have never experienced before. Perhaps, I have better things to write or my horizon could have been expanded to a wider margin where limit is almost non-existent.
But lately, a more insightful thought struck me. Every day, I’ve woken up not wanting but needing to make a difference in my life, to fight my demons and be brave, to stop asking and just trust my instincts, to take a leap of faith and trust that whatever is happening will catapult me to a better disposition; and to realize that if things aren’t better now, meaning I’ve not yet reached the end of the journey.
And that’s the beauty of being young and enjoying life: you can’t love life in the dark. Every day, you are given the opportunity to make it better. Every day, you are renewed, cleaned, by the waters you thought will drown you. We realize that we are always running, still crashing, still falling but that is just a piece of the entire tapestry. We cry today, but we find ourselves laughing at why we cried after the rain passed by.
For the past 22 years, that’s what I have been writing about. I wrote about the successes I’ve had and how it became my truth and self-definition. I wrote about how I felt when I started to feel love and how it brought me to places I’ve never been to before. I think that you have to know yourself and define love basing on that knowledge to take on the journey and make it worthwhile. But I also wrote about how crashing it is to fall out of love, to lose the definition you gave it and lose the other person you’ve grown fond of. Never knowing that it can be the best experience because you will also find yourself in the process and somehow that was everything.
It’s thrilling and exciting when I wrote about moving in to a loud and bright city in the country. I think that you have to be ambitious and brave enough to take on a city like Cebu and its blaring truths. I wrote about the most naked thoughts of my mind and how unbecoming I can be sometimes. When you’re a young adult, experiences are what we want to earn and I’ve sort of described how maddening and haywire one single experience can be.
Above all these, I think that the next chapter of my life would be a story of more coming undone on the road. A story of how we can be strong and weak at the same time, of finding life in the midst of death, finding the voice that’s been drowned by the blaring silence, of letting go, of finding what you deserve. A story of finding the path on the road less traveled by; on the road of uncertainty. A story of becoming your own and as a result, finding meaning to your existence.