Older

Thanks to my father’s birthday gift of old home movies, I just spent the last hour reliving my birthdays from ages twelve to seventeen and I’ve come to one solid conclusion.

I’m older.

So. Much. Older.

The home movies took me back to a different time. A time of blunt-cut pageboy hair, jean hats, high wasted khaki pants, huge glasses (ohhhhhh the glasses) and high-pitched giggling about some secret crush.

In fairness, I still high pitch giggle about secret crushes.

I sat and watched myself get older and older. From the birthday that was for GIRLS ONLY to the birthday where I hosted a dance in my basement and we swayed to the tunes of Celine Dion and played Spin The Bottle with a Seltzer bottle.

As I watched myself wear too much blue glitter and make the classic white-girl hair mistake of cornrows, I thought about how far I’d come.

I’ve moved so many different places.

I’ve lived abroad.

I’ve climbed a mountain.

I’ve kissed a boy.

I don’t wear cornrows anymore.

And now glitter is just for special occasions.

But the younger version of me is still there…somewhere deep down. It’s present in my undying love for Spin The Bottle and it’s there in my pursuit of the dream that I promised myself I would chase when I turned 12.

That girl, that girl with the over-sized glasses and the farmer’s tan would be really proud of this girl. The one with the contact lenses and the pale skin (because she’s afraid of wrinkles and skin cancer.)

Because this girl is here, in Hollywood, pursuing what she promised she would. Despite setbacks and money issues, failed auditions and moment’s of complete self-doubt, I’m still here.

And so is the twelve-year-old who promised herself she would be.

That is the best birthday present ever.

Here’s to that girl…..