When did this happen?

I guess it happens when you just… live. Everyone goes through this, right? They all have that moment of “when did THAT happen?”

So there I was, sitting in bed, on the computer, scrolling through my multiple newsfeeds, while also keeping up with a group chat like a regular millennial. But tonight was one of those nights where you scroll through your own profiles and reminisce in the past. I’m sure my fellow peers can relate to this type of night (don’t lie to yourself, theres nothing to be ashamed of.)

I was on my YouTube channel watching old travel videos when it happened. The Venice vlog was playing and I glanced down at the year it was published when a wave of realization came over me.

My birthday is next week, aka the day you’re reading this.

I’m old.

Honestly, I don’t even know what year this birthday was.

Now I know what everyone is thinking. Twenty-two is not old. Hell most people would kill to go back to when they were 22. Regardless we’ve all had that feeling. You know, that feeling.

Where the shit has time gone? It’s as if life decided to press fast forward and make you feel this way every year. This doesn’t make birthdays bad, but rather odd. Mine in particular is kind of weird, usually over shadowed by three holidays: Valentine’s Day (marketer’s greatest scheme ever), Chinese New Year, and America’s favorite– the Super Bowl. Whoo, sports!…

As compared to my sister’s birthday, which just so happens to land at the tail end of the Summer season. Guess who’s birthday gets celebrated at least 3 times in one Summer vacation?

Must be nice.

We are not here to discuss who wins the “My Birthday Was Celebrated the Most in A Life Time” award. We are here to address the fact that I should be feeling like Taylor Swift in a pair of red heart sunglasses, shorts, and singing about how I’m feeling at my current age. And I do, in some ways. I mean some things are questionable, like how should a 22 year-old be dancing? Not like that Taylor, that’s all I can say.

But seriously folks, little ol’ Kelly has come a long way from that awkward kid that had stuffed animals as friends because she was too shy, to the young adult who has stuffed shark dolls and a unicorn in her bed because a twin bed feels too big.

Okay, I guess some things don’t change. During these types of night while scrolling through my own profile, I can’t help but just… smile, cringe, and laugh at myself. So far the world has treated me well, and I’m forever grateful for that.

As mentioned in previous posts, I’m not one to be regretful because the events in our lives happen for a reason. They happen either because the world is giving us a chance to define who we want to be as a person in that point in time, or build ourselves to be the person we want to be in the future. And that goes for all events, some of them you may not even know are one of THOSE moments.

Which kind of sucks, but that should encourage us to be better people, not only to other people but to ourselves. If we can’t be kind to ourselves how can we expect others to be kind to us? If you’re like me, someone who is kind and gives so much to people without recognizing that we aren’t receiving kindness back, then this one is to you. This isn’t a testament saying to always expect something back, but sometimes being too kind is not you being kind to yourself.

I think this is one of the most important things I’ve learned in the past 22 years. Be kind to others, but be mindful of your own worth because at the end of the day you’ll be able to say

all is swell.

(Yes, I’ve been playing “22” by Taylor Swift on loop while writing this, sue me.)

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