Good Old 33

My Thursday morning felt like a Monday.  In part, because this is the first day in many that I have actually had to report to a location early in the morning for work (woe is me, right?).  The other part is because I have been celebrating my birthday the past few days in various ways and I am still in a haze of joyful relaxation.

I am now officially 33 years old.  It’s an age that still seems so strange to me, 33.  I can still remember the glory of being 22, a year beyond that coveted 21, feeling like I have truly hit adulthood, the entire world ahead of me.  Ha!  Oh, 22-year-old Emily!  It’s when I remember that girl, that I do feel the life experience of 33 washing over me.  The difference now being that I know 33-year-old Emily will be mocked by 44-year-old Emily.

The world I have in front of me today feels nice.  Stronger, softer, and far more powerful than my 22-year-old world.  That world was full of wonder, fear, poor self-esteem.  Now I am smarter, calmer, more open, and filled with a better sense of myself, my weaknesses, my strengths, my actions, my passions.

My world now is filled with love, the love I once craved so desperately but didn’t always see when it was right in front of me. The love and respect of my parents who see me as a wonderful adult in her own right, of wonderful friends who care to text me, call me, and spend time with me in some way, and the love of my wonderful husband who showers me with so much affection I think my heart is going to burst from soaking it all up.  My cup truly runneth over.

The other reason this feels like Monday is because this is the start of my year. I am out from the holidays, out from my birthday, and ready to tackle the next year of my life.  Let’s do this!  Let’s get healthy, let’s conquer the world, let’s be brave.

If 33 keeps feeling this good, it’s going to be an amazing year!

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