I remember being younger and looking up the days of the week that my birthday fell on. "My 21st is a Wednesday, what a bummer. But my golden birthday is a Friday!"
I don't think that 13 year old me would have expected my life to be this way, but that's okay.
Somewhere between 13 and 23, I found my home in the comfort of sweatpants and studying marketing for fun. I found love in the form of small dogs and someone who refills my water glass as an act of kindness. I found expression in the art form that is photographing amazing people with big dreams with honest intention in front of sunsets. And I found friendship fits at an average sized round table, and that's okay - because at round tables, everybody can reach each other.
It's not updating your Facebook page, because there's more important things in front of you. It's picking up the phone instead of sending a text. It's feeling like your number age finally almost matches your soul age (almost).
I'm not saying it's been easy. It's been rather painfully difficult - full of tears and harsh words and late night Google searches to see if anybody, anybody else felt the things that I did. And there always was. You are never alone.
Somewhere between getting rid of all of my dresses and forgetting to cut my hair more than three times a year, I'm starting to find my place. I'm not there yet, but it's getting warmer.