It feels like just yesterday I was belting out Aegis songs at the local karaoke bar, 18 and full of life, ready to conquer the world, one halo-halo at a time. And now, like a jeepney that's missed the traffic enforcer's whistle, I find myself barreling towards 32. Thirty-two! When did that happen?
It's odd. You grow up thinking that by 30, you'll have it all figured out. There's this universal, unspoken roadmap we're all supposed to follow: good education by 22, stable job by 25, married with two kids and a dog by 30. And yet, here I am, no kids or dog in sight (unless you count my five potbellied plants), and I'm still as in love with instant pancit canton as I was at 15.
Sometimes, I look at my batchmates' posts on Facebook. They're driving sleek cars, showcasing new homes, some even cuddling their second-born. And me? I'm right here, mastering the art of avoiding burnt rice and cheering on my favorite e-sports team. It can make you wonder, "Am I late to the party?"
But then I remember that old Filipino proverb, "Huli man daw at magaling, naihahabol din." (Better late than never, right?) And the truth is, life isn't a race, it's not even a marathon. It's a lifelong Zumba session - full of unexpected twists, turns, and a lot of laughter.
I may not have everything that society expects a 32-year-old to have, but boy, do I have stories. From my triumphant victory over a giant ipis to the time I rode the wrong bus and ended up having a spontaneous tour of Cavite, I've lived and learned. And hey, I'm still here, still dancing.
Sure, my knees may crack a bit when I squat, and I can't pull an all-nighter like I used to. But with every new silver strand in my hair comes the golden wisdom of experience. As it turns out, life's worth is not measured by the number of milestones, but by the laughter, love, and lessons that fill the journey.
So here's to us, the ones navigating our thirties with the spirit of our twenties and the wisdom of our elders. We may not have it all figured out yet, but that's okay. Because, as every Filipino knows, the best part of the lechon is not in its perfect roast, but in savoring every delicious bite. And I'm just getting started on my feast.
Now, if you'll excuse me, my pancit canton is calling. Who said life at 32 isn't exciting?
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