Goodbye, 35

When I was younger, I don’t think I could ever grasp the concept of being 35. My mom was twenty-six when she had me and by the time she was thirty-five, she had birthed all six of her children. Her eldest child was 13 and her youngest child was 2. Looking back, I don’t think I thought of my mother as a thirty-five year old woman. She was mom.

So having that as a frame to look back on and see what thirty-five was like for me, I definitely did not have six children that I needed to care for and love. I had me, myself and I and the wonderful loved ones I surround myself with. I guess thirty-five was the year I said yes to managing colleagues at work! I fondly call them my kids, cause I know this is the nearest I’ll do to nurturing apart from my zoom calls with my nephews and playing for 10 minute intervals with friends’ kids.

Being in my mid-thirties was something I relished. While re-watching the original Sex and the City series, I realise oh, they were supposed to be around my age when they were filming this and while I definitely have my fair share of dates, I don’t have as much experience. And thirty-five was the year, I kind of settled in this to dating someone business. I’m still learning my way through it but on year 2 of this thing, I feel a little less unsure of myself and a little more at ease.

At the end of the year, I’m still not sure what thirty-five should be about or what thirty-six has in store. But I’m pretty grateful for the crazy experiences this year has given me. You’ve been interesting, thirty-five. Here we go, thirty-six.