Keeping Up with Keke: Dear Diary, I'm 22. ♡

22 on the 22nd. My golden birthday, my not-so-golden year, and everything in between.

Dear Diary,

Twenty-two. On the twenty-second.

I've been waiting for this birthday for what feels like FOREVER. My golden birthday. The one birthday where the age I'm turning matches the date I was born. It's giving main character. It's giving once-in-a-lifetime. It's giving Taylor Swift, except I actually have a reason to make 22 my entire personality.

And yet, if you had asked me a year ago what I thought my life would look like today, I don't think I would've gotten a single thing right.

Not. One. Thing.

At 21, I thought I'd have a lot more figured out by now. I thought I'd be further along in school, more independent, maybe even in a relationship. I thought certain people would still be in my life, certain relationships would look the same, and certain things would have worked themselves out.

Spoiler alert: they did not.

But I guess that's the funny thing about growing up. You spend your teenage years imagining your twenties as this magical era where everything finally falls into place, only to actually get here and realize that nobody has a clue what they're doing.

Including me. Especially me.

Twenty-one was...a lot.

I genuinely don't know how else to describe this past year.

There were moments where I felt like I was finally becoming the person I'd always wanted to be. I went out, made memories, met new people, traveled, kissed boys (some of whom probably should've stayed unkissed), and experienced things that younger me would've absolutely lost her mind over.

But there were also moments where everything felt like it was falling apart.

I watched plans I'd spent years making unravel in front of me. I questioned my future, my relationships, my decisions, and sometimes even myself.

I experienced the weird feeling of growing up while simultaneously feeling like I was being pushed backward.

And, perhaps most unexpectedly, I learned that the people and places that once made you feel the safest can sometimes become the most complicated parts of your life.

For someone who loves nostalgia as much as I do, accepting that things are changing has been...difficult, to say the least.

I've always been the kind of girl who wants to freeze the good moments. I want everything to stay exactly as it was when everyone was happy, when relationships were uncomplicated, and when I knew what to expect.

But life doesn't really care about what I want, does it?

Rude.

The birthday I imagined vs. the birthday I'm having

For as long as I can remember, my birthdays have followed a pretty predictable routine.

I'd wake up to balloons from my dad, go about my day, and eventually end up at dinner with my family.

It wasn't anything extravagant, but it was ours.

And for years, I genuinely loved it.

This year looks different.

There have been so many changes in my family lately, and some of them are still things I'm trying to process. Relationships have shifted. People have grown apart. Things that used to feel so natural suddenly feel complicated.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, there's me.

The girl who's somehow on okay terms with everybody, even when everybody isn't necessarily on okay terms with each other.

For a while, I wanted to convince myself that we could still have our usual birthday dinner. That maybe, for one night, we could pretend everything was normal again.

But I eventually realized something.

I don't want to spend my birthday wishing things were the way they used to be.

I want to enjoy the way things are now, even if they're different.

So this year, I'm celebrating with my friends. The people who've laughed with me, listened to my endless rants, entertained my delusions, and somehow still willingly answer my phone calls.

And honestly? I'm excited.

It's not the birthday I would've pictured a year ago, but maybe that's okay.

Maybe different doesn't always have to mean worse.

Things I wish I could tell 21-year-old me

First of all, GIRL.

We need to talk.

I would tell her to stop trying to plan every single detail of her future because, spoiler alert, life is going to laugh in her face.

I would tell her that not every person who enters her life is supposed to stay, and that sometimes the lack of closure is the closure.

I'd tell her that attention and affection are not the same thing. That just because someone makes her feel wanted doesn't necessarily mean they're capable of making her feel loved.

I'd remind her that she doesn't need to act unbothered all the time. That being sensitive isn't embarrassing, and that pretending not to care doesn't magically make her feelings disappear.

I'd tell her that making mistakes doesn't mean she's ruined her future.

That one bad semester, one failed plan, or one disappointing relationship doesn't get to define her entire life.

And most importantly?

I'd tell her to stop measuring her life against the imaginary timeline she made when she was sixteen.

Because sixteen-year-old me had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

She thought she'd have her entire life figured out by twenty-two.

That's actually hilarious.

So, what do I want from 22?

For once in my life, I don't have some elaborate five-year plan.

Okay, that's a lie. I probably have at least three floating around in my head right now.

But I'm trying to be a little less obsessed with where I'm supposed to end up and a little more appreciative of where I actually am.

I want independence. Real independence. The kind where I get to make decisions for myself without constantly worrying about how they'll be received.

I want to fall in love, obviously. I'm still a hopeless romantic, and I fear that's a terminal condition.

But I also want to stop confusing the excitement of being pursued with the comfort of being genuinely cared for.

I want to make more memories. Take more pictures. Go on spontaneous adventures. Laugh until my stomach hurts. Wear the cute outfit instead of saving it for some hypothetical special occasion.

I want to continue writing, even when the things I'm writing about aren't particularly flattering.

I want to become someone younger me would look up to, but I also want to become someone present-day me actually likes being.

And maybe, just maybe, I want a little peace.

Not the kind where nothing ever goes wrong, because let's be serious, this is my life we're talking about.

But the kind where I can trust myself to handle whatever happens next.

A little birthday wish ♡

I think the strangest part about turning twenty-two is realizing that I'm simultaneously so young and so much older than I used to be.

There are versions of me that no longer exist. The little girl who couldn't wait to grow up. The teenager who thought she knew everything about love. The twenty-one-year-old who was so convinced she knew exactly where her life was headed.

I miss those girls sometimes.

But I also think they'd be proud of me in ways I don't always recognize.

Because even after everything, I'm still here.

Still dreaming. Still romanticizing the smallest things. Still getting excited over birthdays, pretty outfits, late-night conversations, and the possibility that something wonderful could happen tomorrow.

Maybe that's what I love most about myself.

No matter how many times life disappoints me, some part of me always believes there's something good waiting around the corner.

And I really hope I never lose that.

So here's to twenty-two.

To new beginnings, unexpected plot twists, better decisions (hopefully), questionable decisions (realistically), more love, more laughter, and becoming the kind of woman I've always wanted to be.

I don't know exactly what this next chapter has in store for me.

But for the first time in a while, I'm trying to be okay with that.

Happy golden birthday to me. ♡

With love,
Keke 💋