A Special Day

So 22 years ago on this day, I was born. The exact time was 5:38 am. The location was Brooklyn, NYC. The parents were immigrants from a small English speaking country in South America named Guyana.

Some how I can't believe that I've made it this far. Some of you may think, "Oh you're such a baby, Kelly!" but I think that 22 is a pretty long time. I’ve done a lot of things in the 22 years that I’ve been living. I've been to exotic lands and dealt with small-minded people. I've accomplished so much and failed many times more. I've done stupid things and ended up being lucky sometimes. I've fell in love, got my heart broken, and went through many disappointments and triumphs. What astonishes me is that after all of that crap, after all of the bullshit, I'm still standing. I'm still here.

Everyone seems to reflect on their lives when they reach a birthday. I've done the same thing this morning. Concerning the past, seeing that I can't change my mistakes, I won't. All I could do is look forward, set goals, and execute my plans.

When I turned 21 last year, though the law of the land said I was an adult (well really it’s 18, but that’s not the point), I really still felt like a parasite, financially draining my parents. Now that I am 22 years old, I’m on my own, supporting myself and taking on more responsibility. I'm happy to be an official adult now. Bills, rent and all!