Media Pendeja

Hello!

Happy November! We’re basically halfway through the month, but that’s fine, the phrase still applies.

I recently read an old college roommate’s Instagram post reflecting on her 25th birthday, and it was so sweet and special. So here we are.

My birthday is December 23rd. I was actually meant to be born on December 12th! My name was going to be Maria Isabel. How funny. I don’t feel like a Maria so I’m glad that didn’t pan out. Just Isabel makes sense.

Of course, I took my time to get here. If you know me now, you know I still have trouble getting anywhere on time! I would have loved to have been born on December 12th. This date brings up lots of special memories for me. The 12th is also when Catholics celebrate the Virgin of Guadalupe and it is such a beautiful experience. I don’t love mass. However, any time I’ve gone to church of my own accord, it has been on December 12th.

Getting back to my actual birthday and turning 27; I’m happy about it. 🙂 As a child, I used to detest my birthday. It was during a time of chaos. As all of my Latinos know, we really celebrate Christmas on the 24th, not the 25th. Everyone was always so busy on my birthday, so parties were lame, gifts were blah, and everything felt rushed. It was usually just the six of us on my birthday, my parents and all 4 kiddos. Now as an adult, I feel like that was and is my greatest gift.

I feel so grateful that I get to see all of my family on my birthday. My siblings and my parents have their birthdays spread out across the months of March, April, July, August, and September. Sometimes, on their birthdays, all six of us are present. Increasingly, at least one person is missing.

But me? I get them for days on end. I get breakfasts and dinners with them, I get walks, I get to revisit old memories. I get to yell, I get to cry, I get to laugh so very loudly. I get all of the good, bad, and ugly that comes with being under the same roof with my favorite people again. I know that will end one day, and I already mourn the days that are to come.

The age 27 isn’t so scary to me. Don’t get me wrong, I do still feel very lost at times. When I’m feeling extra vain, I fixate on all of the areas on my face that are showing signs of aging. Overall, though, I am in a much better place now that I’m reaching 27 than I was at 21. I am constantly learning more about the things I like, the things I’ll tolerate, and the things I won’t. Love that for me.

During this next year, I want to do more. I want to earn more, move my body more, read more, and make myself more uncomfortable. A year of abundance. I think that will be good for me.

OK! That is it from me. This may have hit harder on my birthday, but the thoughts are flowing to me now. Super personal post, but y’all will be fine. How did you feel at 27? Do you remember?

Note from IC: Sharing some old photos because now I’m nostalgic. They are so funny to look at!

Much love!

-IC