35

Today I celebrate my 35th birthday. Thirty-five. 3-5. Somehow that sounds as if I am supposed to be a grown-up now. Is this true?

The other day, I mentioned that this birthday would be my 35th, and one of my housemates, a youngun, all of 24-years-old, said, "Shhh. We can say you're 29!"

"Hell, no, " I thought, "I am not going to lie about my age. Besides, 35 seems like a perfect age." But you see, I know something he doesn't. At 24, 35 seems old to him because he can't imagine life after 25, thus there is no way he can possibly know that it really does get better after 30. At 24, he's is where so many of us were in our 20s, full of existential angst and desperately trying to figure out this thing called life. Or maybe I am just thinking about me at that age.

At 24, I was so self-conscious, uncomfortable in my own skin. At 24, I was trying to discern what I was supposed to be doing with my life, where I needed to be, what I needed to be doing. At 24, I still wanted desperately to fit in, to find a home in a group or a community. At 24, I longed for this thing called confidence, and while I professed a self-reliance, a fierce autonomy and independence, I wanted nothing more than to belong.

Somewhere around 30, I eased up on myself.

And here at 35, I am still trying to figure out this thing called life. But I realize life is something that unfolds as I go along. I don't have to have all of the answers right now. And it's kind of fun making them up as I go. At 35, I am still trying to discern what I am supposed to do with my life, but only the next chapter. I have realized that all of the best plans transform on me anyway, so all I can do is take this next step in faith and trust that I will have the wisdom (and the courage) to figure it out beyond that. And at 35, I have become comfortable with myself. I am no longer searching for "home", because I have learned how to be at home in myself. And this way, I get to carry my home with me wherever I go.

It's not really a secret. And I wish I could share this with my housemate, tell him all of the wisdom I have gleaned from these last eleven years of my life. But I won't. Because these are things that he'll have to figure out on his own. So I just laugh and say, "Ah, 35 is not that old."

And really, it's not that old. Unless of course I am to believe my birthday horoscope in The Onion, which reads, "This is an important birthday for you, especially considering how very, very few of them you've got left." Ah well, I guess I better enjoy my birthdays while I can.