Twenty-Eight

By Delaney Couri

Every year for the past four years I have written a blog about my birthday.

This has become one of my favorite things to do as a way to ring in the new year of me— a time capsule of my life for the past four years as I pursue my doctorate.

In the past I wrote about my favorite things to eat, to do, to watch, or to listen to. Just as I did last year, I am looking back at who I was at twenty-five, twenty-six, and twenty-seven.

While I have changed and grown through the years, I am still just me. Nonetheless each year I look forward to meeting each new version of me as they emerge.

So, without further ado, who am I at twenty-eight?

At twenty-eight, I can't believe I am twenty-eight? That sounds SO old!

At twenty-eight, my current obsession is lemonade. Specifically the lemonade from one of my favorite new restaurants by my house, Wild Pita.

At twenty-eight, I am also obsessed with card games. Particularly one that was introduced to me quite randomly called “Flip.”

At twenty-eight, my cat is not just my best friend, she is the family member who will soon move halfway across the country with me. I love her more each year.

At twenty-eight, I feel propelled forward each morning when I wake up, constantly striving to finish my dissertation and prepare for my new career and locale.

I think the past year was the craziest one that I can remember. It was awful— and wonderful, in equal measure. I spent a lot of time branching out and trying new things. I got rid of things in my house to downsize, but I also ended up downsizing far more important things, too. I set boundaries and invested my time with care. I had a major surgery, wrote a dissertation, got a job offer, and won a major teaching award. I had one of the worst days of my life and one of the best.

Going into my twenty-eighth year, I am ready to finish my dissertation, defend it, and graduate. I am preparing to move and start a new position in a state I am still very unfamiliar with.

Last year, I said that I didn’t think I was ready for anything the year would hold. Dear reader… I was right. I wasn’t ready, but I made my way through it anyway and am coming out the other side a remarkably more mature, thoughtful, fulfilled, and loving person than I was at this time last year.

Looking forward, I feel ready for all that is to come. Maybe that’s naive. Maybe it’s hopeful. Or maybe, like I said at a presentation last week, maybe it is just what it means for me to have faith.

Happy birthday, Delaney. You made it through another year and that on its own is enough reason to celebrate. Stop and smell the roses because you deserve it. I love you.