This Is 33

Today, on Saturday 2nd March 2024, I turn 33.

I’ll be honest, I felt really strange in the weeks leading to my birthday this year. While I had always been stupendously excited for my birthdays in my teens and twenties, then mildly apprehensive about turning 30 in a full-blown pandemic lockdown, I was a little scared about 33.

It circled back to a clouding feeling of failure. I’m not where I thought I’d be at 33. I’m not even close. Since I was about to migrate into a new long-form journalling notebook, I recently took some time to read through my last one. Recent entries, between the ones labelled ‘Good times’, ‘Weekends’ and ‘Joy’, were filled with undertones of fear and anxiety, filled under indexing tags of ‘Friendship’, ‘The future’, ‘Sense of self’. Isn’t it odd how our brains are almost hard-wired to retain the dumbest facts and the irrelevant versions of ourselves? I could see it written plainly in black (MUJI 0.38 fineliner, thanks very much) and white – I was and am happy. So why must my brain keep referring back to the Dream Adult Life™ of my 16-year-old self?

Thankfully, that evening spent tearing up at my own words and life over the past few months did me a world of good. For everything that I felt I hadn’t achieved, I remembered that I often experienced occasions and feelings that I hadn’t even known were possible. I formed new friendships, gained new skills, added plenty of countries to my bucket list. I realised that I have so much to be thankful for and that I live a pretty privileged life, all things considered. I acknowledged all of the difficult feelings and preserved the good times, and felt ready to embrace a brand-new age with open arms. Sometimes, we don’t realise how far we’ve come without a little nudge.

Turning 33, in the end, has felt sweet. I’m grateful to be ageing, in a world where people are losing their lives daily. Reflecting on my year means I feel more aligned than ever on what and how I’d like to feel in the coming year, and I feel energised about my future. Sure, my brain still wants to defer to the Dream Adult Life™ of 16-year-old Michelle, but I’m much more hopeful and excited about what 33-year-old Michelle wants. Thirty-three feels pretty grown-up and actually a little more scary than I’d anticipated, but it also comes with a thought that I can do this.