I counted the days before my 26th birthday on Dec. 14. And although I should be thankful for another year, this year I am feeling all sorts of emotions.
Twenty-six is an age that I have yet to fear. Partly because adulthood seems to be at its budding peak, rising from the ground, unaware of the magnitude of its existence. Even as I type this, I can feel a sense of anxiousness rising up, as if a year added to one’s age were something very dreadful. And partly because most of my relatives are asking when I will get hitched. As if there were a timetable that I have to meet, and if I don’t make it, I will be doomed forever.
It has always been like this, every year, every birthday. Every time I blow out the birthday candle, I am reminded that a year has been added but the list of the things I want to accomplish is ever lengthening. Although I work my head off, there are still many things to do, many matters that need to be resolved, and many issues that need to be confronted — all these in my twenties.
But in my twenties I have learned courage in ways that tested my character. And though some lessons were painful, I have no regrets experiencing them because what I have gained is worth more than what I have lost. When one is faced with adversity, it is almost always easy to just throw in the towel and give up. But in this beautiful age, where courage, hope, and faith still have room in a scarred but fighting heart, giving up seems no longer among the choices.
In my twenties, I have learned that there are battles worth fighting in life, especially if these battles include self-development, self-care, and self-actualization. I have fought to study in my dream university, I have fought for my place as a public school teacher, and I am still fighting to become a better version of myself. But what I have also learned — and learned in a hard way — is that not all battles are meant to be fought. There are battles that take too much of your energy, take too much of your time, and take too much risk that will not really matter a year from now. And sometimes, even when we give up on these battles, it turns out that we have actually won them.
Twenty-six is an age I have come to fully accept. I have learned to love myself — my quirks, my inadequacies, my humanness. It is in this age that I have learned this: Putting oneself first is not always a selfish act. It is in my twenties that I have learned to embrace myself crying at 3 a.m., when memories from the past loom large. It is in my twenties that I have learned to be gentle with myself, and that there is no heartbreak that a glorious sunset, or a beautiful notebook and pen, or the sea, or books, or tea, or soft music, can’t heal.
It is in my twenties that I have taught myself to see the goodness in the people that I encounter, even the ones who seem to have horns instead of halos. It is in my twenties that I have come to accept that not all people I meet are meant to stay in my life, and it is just okay. It is in my twenties that I have learned to remind myself in the mirror that I am still worthy, and I am worthy to be loved not just in halves, but in wholes.
But it is in my twenties that I have come to embrace this funny thing called Life. I have learned to be more daring, more adventurous, more of a risk-taker, and surely I can sense that the wings that were once curled because of fear are now slowly starting to stretch and expand.
And, in my twenties, I am quite ready to soar.
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Sher Pauline C. Palola, 26, is a public school teacher in Pangasinan who says “there’s still that child in my heart, somewhere.”