How to be 28

You spend each Sunday meal prepping for the week. It’s a new thing, but even after four weeks, you still enjoy doing it. You feel proud of yourself for sticking with it, and question what other small changes you can make.

You listen to Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” on repeat until you fall asleep. You realize it’s a song that you can listen to a million times over, but until you hear it at the right moment in your life, it has no meaning. And then it does, and you can’t stop. 

You go on dates with two different men on consecutive nights. You struggle to be likable; to be soft and open. A few nights later, you quickly befriend a married man. You realize you’re more comfortable around men who are not interested in sleeping with you.
 
This bothers you, but forgive yourself for it nonetheless.

You get on the floor and play with trucks, and bugs, and trains with your nephew. You watch your parents watch you do this. You wonder if they worry you’ll never have kids of your own. You push the thought to the back of your mind.
 
You watch Eat, Pray, Love in its entirety for the first time. You’ve started and stopped both the movie and the book countless times, and haven’t made it through either until now. You throw the remote across your living room when you find out who she ends up with.
 
And then you pick it up, shut the TV off, and put yourself to bed.
 
You realize it’s been 6 months since you had diet soda or fake sugar. You can’t remember the last time you had a headache.
 
You Google when Mercury is in retrograde this year. This is information that’s important to you now.
 
Two weeks later, you forget the dates, and Google them again. You read your horoscope for the current retrograde cycle, and although it clearly states to not get a makeover, you decide to cut four inches of hair off anyway.

Because you're tired of waiting: for things, for people, for life to happen.