Yesterday, I turned 27.
(Half-finished birthday sweater my friend is making for me!)
Usually I end up crying every birthday over how much older I am. It started when I turned 18 (and was listening to far too much Dashboard Confessional), I realized that life was just downhill from there–I practically had one foot in the grave.
But a very good friend of mine, having breached 30 herself several years before me, informed me that your 30s are actually a classier version of your 20s. So far, 26 and 27 have been some of the most exciting times I’ve ever had. Traveling the US, writing about it, learning to take pictures, finding that I can be flexible–that life doesn’t have to be so scripted.
You can just fly by the seat of your pants. And that’s ok.
So here’s to being one year closer to 30. After all, it only gets classier from here.
A legendary water fight…
Thanks to all who made my birthday this year so special.