It feels weird to be 22, however, almost like I'm pushing 30. I'm really not sure why, either. When I turned 21, I felt really young still (probably because I was dating a 26-year-old at the time) and like it was time to party and go hog wild. But this birthday was different. I'm not as idealistic anymore, and I feel like I ate a box of wisdom flakes and they got stuck in my throat — I feel wiser, but I don't really think I'm any smarter than I was last summer.
I think part of the problem is that I'm not in the place I dreamed I would be at 22. I'd always imagined I'd be working at a magazine I loved by now or freelancing for a newspaper. And, I'll admit it, I thought I would be married by now. My mom was married at 20, and for some reason, I thought that was the lucky number when you got married. Never mind that the right one has to come along first, no matter HOW old you are. I've always compared the milestones in my life to my mom's, and I guess I need to stop doing that.
So here's to being 22 and in a different place than I ever expected. Heavenly Father certainly has a more interesting plan for me than I'm dreaming of. And perhaps the wisdom flakes will work themselves out of my throat eventually.