Yhem Speaks

It’s not birthdays that remind me I’m getting older. It’s conversations. Random comments and Gen Z saying things freely like they always do.

I’ll be having a normal conversation, minding my business, then someone younger will casually say something that forces me(a whole millennial baby) to stop and reassess my entire existence. They’ll remind me of time, even without trying to. It slips into conversations. Casual jokes. Social media. Birthdays. Comments that sound harmless but still land. Well, they’re not wrong. Time is moving and will always move.

Something like,
“I wasn’t born then.”
Or, “I only know that because my mum likes it.”

Your mum?

Trust me, I wasn’t even offended. Just surprised that when did mum enter this conversation and why am I suddenly on the other side of it?

It’s worse when they mention their birth year like it’s nothing. Just throw it into the conversation. No warning at all… I’ll laugh, nod, then quietly start counting in my head. That’s usually when I realize I shouldn’t have asked any follow-up questions… HAHAHHAHAHA!

Anyway, online is even more disrespectful. I’ll see someone call something from the early 2000s “old school” and my chest will tighten slightly. Or they’ll bring back something we all suffered through and rename it like it’s brand new. Low-rise jeans. Tiny handbags. Trends I remember abandoning with relief.

They’ll even be explaining it with confidence, like it’s a discovery. Meanwhile, I’m just there thinking, we’ve been here before and it’s not a big deal.

The funny thing is, I don’t feel old. I still feel very much like myself. Still figuring out what works and what doesn’t. The older I get, the more random things start making sense in small moments and thoughts. Like standing in the kitchen and suddenly remembering something that stressed me out five years ago… and wondering why I almost lost sleep over it.

Aging comes with upgrades. I stop rushing explanations. I stop auditioning for rooms that don’t clap for me. I learn how to sit with discomfort without panicking. I learn that not every delay is a denial, and not every loss is the end of the story.

There’s a calm that sneaks in with time. Not because life gets easier but because I got steadier. I’ve seen things pass. I’ve watched storms make noise and then leave. I’ve learned that some wins don’t announce themselves online, and some growth doesn’t photograph well.

Gen Z and Alpha are fast, sharp and loud. I love that for them.
But there’s something about having memory. Context. A long view.
Knowing how a version of yourself once struggled with something you now handle without blinking.

Aging gives you that.
Depth. Pattern recognition. Emotional muscle.
The ability to laugh at things that once kept you up at night. Maybe that’s why I’m not sad when they remind me of my age because I know what came with it.

My birthday is in two weeks.
Another year added. Another layer earned.
No rush. No fear. Just gratitude for becoming someone who knows herself a little better than she did last year.

Honestly?
I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

With Stories Always,

Yhem💕