#finally a chequered flag celebrity i recognise

[sukajunin]

28 club

As I approach the cusp of my 28th year, I find myself in a familiar contemplation, attempting to rack my head for the perfect summary of the last 365 days. It’s as if I’m striving to construct an intricate mosaic, each fragment representing the lessons learned and the things experienced. Instead, the process feels more comparable to completing a puzzle where I have lost the guiding picture on the front of the box.

Every year I turn older, I try to do this - at least for the latter stages of my twenties - and I inevitably find myself at a dead end. I’m not entirely sure why I put so much pressure on myself to recount the past year, but perhaps the impending anniversary of my birth beckons me to ponder not just the present, but the past in particular. This inbetween connects me to the years gone by, a time when anything was possible, and life’s tribulations were yet to reveal its ugly truths to me. 

Birthdays always remind me of my fleeting youth, which is why I don’t find myself celebrating it much. Even though 28 is still considered a young age, I can’t help but to observe how life’s subtle changes accumulate. Every year, there is always something that puts my aging body and soul (gosh, I’m so dramatic) into perspective. From the obvious increase of the number of candles on the cake, to the decreasing number of birthday messages (because only the true OGs will remember your special day when you finally turn off the Facebook Birthdays feature). 

This year, I’m reminded that it has been a decade since my high school graduation. I’m struck by the passage of time and I started to believe that, for some reason, life was much better then. But more than that, I recognise that the fondness I feel for that chapter isn’t about yearning for the past - it’s a reminder that life is a fucking complex work of mosaic that requires both joyous colours and colours of hardship. 

Of course, only some small parts of the past were better because it wouldn’t be life if it were not met without its share of struggles. The absence of adulting responsibilities like paying rent and bills was great, but it was nicely balanced by the weight of familial turbulence (nothing like a good divorce in the family to really humble yourself).

Because the truth is, life can only be understood backward; but it must be lived forward.

This decade has been more than a journey - it’s been a metamorphosis, like Hilary Duff’s greatest album of all time. Each year, each step, has contributed to a deeper understanding of who I am and where I’m headed. It’s natural to linger on the past, to find solace in its known contours, but I’ve learned that true growth lies in embracing the unknown future.

Now that I’m closer to 30 than I am to 20 (damn, wow), the rearview mirror reveals a landscape of memories. There’s an allure in nostalgia, like seeing a Discman in a museum, which is crazy to say the least, but it can sometimes paint a rosier picture than reality. Remember: objects in the mirror may appear closer than it seems. Or rather, the past seems brighter than it actually was. 

But amid all this, I realise that the present often demands more attention than I grant it. It’s tempting to compare my trajectory to others’, especially in the age of “transparent” social media, but I’ve come to accept that my journey is uniquely my own. People like to tell me: “Can you believe it’s been a year?” And because I enjoy self-deprecating jokes, I add: “I know, what have I even done with my life?”

I’ve had moments of achievements and even self-discovery in the last few years, but it’s still human of me to question if this is progress and to wonder whether I’ve done enough. I have to remind myself that I’ve written a narrative that’s distinctly mine and what I consider as being “behind” might be different for someone else. Where are we going anyway? Is there a chequered flag with free-flowing champagne waiting for us at the end of this race that we call life? 

In a few days, I’ll gift myself not just another year, but a reminder to be present - to appreciate the beauty in the here and now, as banal as it sounds. No one is keeping track of what I have done or haven’t done, except for me. Even the setbacks have contributed to the bigger image of the mosaic of my life. The measure of my worth isn’t confined to societal markers; it’s a reflection of the person I’ve become, the lessons I’ve learned, and the thoughts and actions I’ve been exposed to.

So, as I pen this chapter and embrace another revolution around the sun, I offer a piece of advice to my younger, more stupid self: Trust the journey, for it is yours and yours alone. Embrace the open road of existence with curiosity and resilience. Happy birthday to you, and may you learn to love the future, and appreciate the present, as much as you do the past.