This weekend I turned 23, a seemingly un-momentous age. #legal is no longer a relevant status nor are there song lyrics that say 'feeling 23'. And while #jordanyear is popular, I admittedly know nothing about basketball.
So, approaching 23 felt sort of anticlimactic. And, on top of that, I was nervous about my first San Francisco birthday. But in more ways that one, 23 has been one for the books, and I’d go as far as saying one of my favorites. And it’s single handedly due to the amazing people that made this weekend special.
23 was a sunny weekend filled with a quintessential dolores park picnic, a murder mystery/escape the room puzzle [in our defense: we were very close], a yummy dinner at the trendiest of restaurants [you need to go to Dosa], and even more drinks & good vibes to follow. But it didn’t end there- what with a homemade brunch date with both the oldest and newest of friends, and what I thought was a culminating ‘family dinner,’ only to be surprised with one more cool outing. This time at a speakeasy. This weekend was enough to make me smile [and cry, of course] [Well that and also the flowers. Honestly, I don’t know why, but receiving fresh flowers make me so happy.]
Each birthday surprises me not only by the amount of love that comes my way [aka how freaking incredible my family and friends are] but also by how it makes me feel. There really is nothing like feeling loved. And it makes me think long and hard about how I make others feel-not only on their birthdays but on every other day as well.
While normally I’d say year to year feels relatively the same, 23 does actually feel different.
And if this weekend is any indication, I think I’m going to really like 23.
Photos by: Dani Grant