Bob Dylan once sang, “I was so much older then; I’m younger than that now.” I started writing my “Coffee to Cocktails” column as a teenager. Last week I turned 30. On the outside its been pretty much the same since I was 20. Still living in an over-decorated home that hinted still of many clichéd existential and identity crises; still tending to an equally elaborate toy dog with the sensibilities of Joan Collins; and, after some engagements, still no marriage.
When I was young my grandfather made me draw what I imagined my adult life would be like. Of course, at the tender age of eight, being 21 seemed like my faraway “gurney years.” Little did I know that, at 21, life was just about to begin and innocence was about to end. I drew a portrait of a family with brats, a massive house in Forbes Park and a dog. It seems I only achieved the dog part.
I really thought I had it all when I was 24. Four years later, I pretty much lost everything. Two years later, I earned everything back.
When you hit your 20s your heart doesn’t break as much. You see things that are no longer novel but change your life forever. You see your parents as your friends. You see your friends as your family. You change for the better. You also change for the worst.
My friend Joey Mead was the first person to tell me about Saturn Returns — that Delilah moment in life when you think that everything is pretty much set, but everything pretty much unravels at the most hysteric pace. My best friend died, I called off my wedding, I went to London to write my book, lived in India to find inner peace, I was a few months away from leaving the country to take classes in Harvard and at the end, here I am back in Manila. I had every fantastical hypothesis as to how I would finally settle down, and surprise of all surprises, I decided to stay home. Back in Manila, back in Port Area, back with Caligula.
Of course, it was all for a man. As always, my daddy.
Why? After seeing the world, I wanted to see home again. This is where my life is. My best friend Wendy once told me years ago that I made her love Manila after living in Paris for almost a decade. Why was I running away from it? Saturn exits and I’m home.
I love getting older. It reminds you of how much you still have to learn. It reminds you of how finite life is. It reminds you that mini skirts are not meant to be worn forever. It’s also the time that the words “age defying” meant to describe creams and serums seem to be suddenly relevant and intriguing. Life suddenly has a certain poignancy, a certain sadness and ironically a certain levity that comes from realizing you certainly don’t know it all. It excites you. It sobers you.
Here are things that I won’t be missing about my 20s:
1. Frenemies: Seriously, if you still have some, get a life coach or something.
2. Say goodbye to the short clothes of low self esteem.
3. Scandalous bar tabs and antics: Staying in has never seemed so right.
4. Baby pink lip gloss: Embrace red lipstick because you can!
5. Me, me, me: The conscience has never been so vigilant and militant. And charity should at this point be a part of life.
6. Flings: Totally overrated.
7. Doubt: Well, some doubts.
8. Fad diets: The day Atkins died so did my diet mania.
9. Reading Umberto Eco to prove a point: I love my Us Weekly and I’m not stupid.
10. Fighting the stupid fight: Like, seriously.