I have a confession. I am absoloutely head over heels in love with being 22, and it’s not just because of the Taylor Swift song (but okay maybe most of it is because of the Taylor Swift song). Today is my half birthday meaning I’ve been experiencing 22 for a whopping 182 days, so far I’m loving it and I am nowhere near ready to turn 23 (then I have to start singing “What’s my Age again” which isn’t nearly as fun).
22 feels young enough to feel free to dream a new dream, to skinny dip on a week night and to officially declare every Tuesday, “Tutu Tuesday”. At 22 you can still change your mind about what you want to be when you grow up, you can buy the “My Little Pony” toothbrush sans too much judgement, you can still dot your “i”s with hearts, and you can invite your besties over for sleepovers and sleep in the same bed. At 22 you can still wear sparkly headbands and giant bows on pretty much a daily basis. You can call “nannying” a job without having to justify it to the average person, you can run barefoot without being accused of being drunk and cartwheels are pretty much effortless. You’re young enough to dress in little more than lingerie for Halloween but old enough to stop needing random attention for self validation. You are young enough to sneak mimosas into class (just that one time), to wear matching “Best Bitches” shirts with your BFF and to consider Carrie Bradshaw your ultimate role model. At 22 it is socially acceptable to buy new underwear instead of doing laundry (well sometimes), to not really understand that an investment is more than a really nice pair of Tory Burch boots and to not even have the slightest clue what “401k” means. You’re young enough to wear crop tops as real clothes and to view cereal as an acceptable dinner. 22 is young enough to search for fairytales and to believe in true love.
22 is old enough to feel confident in yourself, to have learned to love your body and stop caring about your flaws. It’s old enough to realize when a guy is treating you like crap and to walk away. You’re old enough to order mimosas at brunch (even though you’ll probably be carded) and to wear pink lipstick during the daytime (without feeling like a fool). 22 is old enough to stop posting dramatic Facebook statuses (for the love of God PLEASE), and old enough to feel comfortable talking with adults about relationships (potentially even sex, woot). 22 is old enough to make your own doctor’s appointments even though sometimes it’s just easier to have your best friend make them for you. At 22 you’re old enough to recognize that those “friends” from high school, or college who made you cry, ditched you and made you feel inadequate weren’t exactly friends. You’re old enough to stop caring who was the cheerleading captain or sorority president and to really just see people for who they are. You’re old enough to go on actual dates instead of just “hanging out”, old enough to finally shop at J.Crew without feeling like you’re playing dress up and to realize a lot of the advice your Mom gave you was (eek) right.
Have you had a favorite age? Or am I a weirdo for even feeling like 22 is my favorite thus far? I may be dreading turning 23 but I have a feeling everything will be alright if I just keep dancing like I’m 22.
P.S. Thank you to Helene and Sarah for their fabulous idea #TotalSocial. I was so excited to share my favorite age with you, on my half birthday too!