the art of letting go

twentynine - getting older

the art of getting older (and wiser)

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Twenty three felt different.

After having my existential crisis the second I turned twenty, I didn't think any other birthday would hold a shred of significance. I never stuck to the law regarding drinking so the only difference when I turned twenty one was that if I ever got asked for ID, I wouldn't be handing them a fake one. Twenty two passed while the band were writing their first new album in Sweden and Saint baked me a cake while they all sang happy birthday to me.

Twenty three.

It's very weird, the concept of growing old. There was a time that I never thought I'd make it to nine years old, and then fifteen, and then eighteen. All these years just feel like borrowed time that I was never supposed to have.

I can't help but feel grateful for it all though. Everything that ever happened - the good, the bad, and the ugly. Everything that happened taught me things that I never would've learnt elsewhere. Despite wishing it never happened, despite knowing that I deserved to be safe so much more than I needed to be strong, I can't ignore the fact that it taught me a lot. About myself. About life. About family.

I let my past hold me back for so long. Scared of being happy, scared of having a life that could be taken away from me in mere moments. I've spent so many of my diamond years scared of living, scared of switching off my survival mode and allowing myself to true and love freely. It's truly terrifying to realize that this is the first birthday that I've reached where I don't feel guilty for making it here. I don't feel guilty for making a life for myself when Kreyson never got to. I don't feel guilty for leaving my people anymore because now they were standing right beside me.

Twenty three years. So many things have happened. I've experienced more than most people would ever face in an entire lifetime. It was completely incomprehensible to think that I'd been alive for less than a quarter of a century. How could so much pain be caused in so little time?

But I am stronger for what's happened to me. I am stronger for reasons that I didn't even see at first. Not because I can throw a punch or because I can argue like a sailor, but because I've been given the gift of understanding how to fight through struggle and pain. I've built a new family in replace of one that was never mine to begin with. I've learnt so much about life and priorities and pain, about finding the courage to decide what paths to embark on, who to travel beside me through it all. I've learnt to prioritize myself, my happiness, over my fears.

So I just let myself take it all in. Everything.

I just stood there, letting the breeze tickle my skin as I stood on the back patio of the bar. Grateful. And so happy. One more year to make a difference. One more year to spend with my family.

Saint's brother, Sacha, had rented out the entire place for my birthday as his present to me, and as an apology for not being able to fly over to see me. Saint and Kaz were busy with their baby girl, and I knew the band had nearly finished their album and were overcome with finishing touches and promo preparation. I didn't blame them and, in all honesty, I didn't mind. I'd spent enough birthdays alone with no family by my side but, at least with this one, I knew they were thinking of me.

After a while of just standing around and talking with some old friends, I decided to go back inside and head to the bathroom. Shaylah had appeared next to me at some point so we headed inside together. Once I'd come back out of the stall and washed my hands, Shaylah eventually spoke up.

"Kezz?"

I hummed in acknowledgement, reapplying my lip gloss as Shaylah smiled at me through the mirror.