I am turning 25 next week. 25 is such a real age. You cannot hide from 25.

I have been alive for 25 years. That is both such a long time and nothing at all.

I have experienced 25 birthdays and 25 Christmases.

I have experienced 25 summertimes. 25 years of changing seasons. 25 years of new and old and new again.

I have experienced 25 years worth of mistakes and successes. 25 years worth of friendships and heartbreaks and bad habits and sweet memories.

I have experienced 25 years worth of lessons learned the hard way.

I have experienced 25 years of growth and learning and chasing my dreams and learning to love who I am.

I have lived 25 years of a beautiful life. 25 years of a life that I love. A life that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

And I cannot wait for another year to start. Another year of living and loving and creating and helping and healing and growing and finding and losing and finding again.

Another year of discovering. Of gaining knowledge. Of seeing the world.

Another year of listening to music that changes everything.

Another year of meeting new people. Of learning new stories. Of understanding things that I cannot fathom right now.

Another year of making mistakes and making the wrong choice.

Another year of breaking things that I will have to turn around and fix.

Another year of showering myself and others with grace and mercy.

Another year of seeing things I will wish that I could un-see.

Another year of seeing things that make me so thankful to be part of humanity.

Another year of divine.

Another year of me.

So here’s to 25. To 25 and all of the things that will come with it. My palms are open.