I had briefly mentioned in an earlier blogpost my sudden shock and realization that I had turned 26. This 1/3 – life crisis is usually met by rolling eyes from my peers who are older than me (even though I am more than certain that you were feeling exactly what I am feeling at this age). Here’s the thing. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to turn 26 and although every part of my being wants to freak out and/or cling on to my youth in some last-ditch effort to be in my early twenties, I think I’m actually starting to embrace the path to 30.
There are moments that hurt, like when you walk into Forever21 and you look around at their clientele and realize that you actually are far from 21 now, or when loads of girls at the bar have feathers in their hair and you caught on to the trend when it was becoming “lame” and overdone. Those moments hurt. I used to hear about movie stars and musicians age 26 and thought to myself “Oh, by that age I’ll be _______” (fill in the blank).
So here’s the thing. Being young kind of sucked. Granted it was fun but I was riddled with insecurities. I never let myself be me. I tried so hard to be the person I thought I should be. My clothes were conservative and boring. Black, grey and navy were my staple colors. I shield away from any kind of sillyness to save face and look “cool.” I wore board shorts and tank tops over my bathing suit and I was always trying to lose that extra 5 pounds before I bought the jeans that would give me the confidence I needed for whatever.
Basically, I’m 26 and although it isn’t a monumental age celebrated by any culture I know of, it’s pretty cool to be an adult. I kind of don’t care anymore. If I want to do something I do it even if it’s trendy. I braid my hair. I shop at Target like every other girl. I don’t care if I just saw ten girls with the same hairstyle, if I want it I’ll get it. I like being happy. I’m not a lost soul trying to find my way anymore (not that I ever was but I damn well thought I was). It’s cool to let yourself be happy. And weirdly enough at 26 it isn’t my professional position, how thin I am or any other artificial idea I was striving for before, but being able to apply sparkly nail polish and not be afraid of what anyone else thinks or in that case what I think about myself.
You can read more from Simi Sardana on her blog.