Last week, I turned 25. Unlike in years past when I had big plans for parties or dinners with too many people to reasonably split the bill with, 25 came quietly. I spent the day with people who I genuinely enjoy, doing things that I wanted to do: a yoga class, a mani-pedi, a drink with a good friend, and a delicious dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. No loud party, no splitting the bill 14 ways.
This is a funny age — grown up and full of responsibility, but still young enough to get the occasional, “25!? You’re still a baby!” from certain people (Should I embrace the praise of my youth while I still have it, or feel a little annoyed and patronized?). I guess the good news about turning a year older is that looking back on the past year, I can barely recall the bad things that happened because there were so many good things that take precedence in my mind. Of course there were difficult times as well, but maybe part of getting older is learning to stop keeping score and start savoring both the wonderful and the not-so-wonderful moments for what they are!