millennial musings

I see my age not in wrinkles or gray hairs but in engagement rings and sonograms. 20-somethings eager to be 30-somethings, to dye their hair back to its natural color and stroll the aisles of Home Depot on a Saturday morning. I sit somewhere in between, unwilling to ever relinquish control of my life for offspring, but yearning for a little something to anchor me to "the real world" that I've been warned about since college (is that anchor a wedding band? am I better off lost at sea?).

My generation is in a hurry to grow up, racing to be the first to announce their engagement/wedding/first baby/first house on Instagram. Curated happiness. #adulting. Behind the scenes we're falling apart, but no one wants to see that mess. Put a filter on it, brighten the deadness in your eyes. Everything's fine! We can't afford to dream anymore because dreams don't pay off our student loans, but everything is fine. We're slowly decaying inside but everything. is. fine.