Ten years ago, I turned 16. I put on my favorite skirt, did the worst make up I could do (also known as the best make up a high schooler could do), and went to school proud that today was my birthday.
Ten years ago, my best friend met me in the cafeteria with something called "Sex Cake" even though none of us has experienced the title. She wished me a happy birthday and we indulged in our fat kid ways, eating chocolate before first period.
Ten years ago, my history teacher was called outside the classroom by our principal (the perks of small schools). He came back in with a somber expression and turned on the television. He told us there was something tragic was happening in New York City. As a classroom, we all watched the news.
Ten years ago, sitting in my history class, I watched the second plane fly into The World Trade Center. I blinked, not quite sure what had happened. And then watched Channel 5 replay the footage over, and over, and over again. It never began to feel real.
Ten years ago.
Ten years later, I turned 26. I put on my most comfortable leggings, threw on some boots and a tank, and went to brunch with my roommate. I celebrated the night before with good friends, and resolved to go home early.
Ten years later, I decided not to plan anything, or do anything over the top for this birthday. Partly because I work in a job where I plan every last detail of other people's lives. Partly because it felt right not to.
Ten years later, I cringed at the idea of friends on the train to celebrate me, should anything occur at the hands of the folks who vowed to come back into our lives as abrasively as they did the first time. I stayed in my borough, traveled only within walking distance of my apartment, and hoped others did the same.
Ten years later, I silently celebrated life and my loved ones. I welcomed their well wishes, and sent along my own as a thank you. I prayed for serenity, patience, and longevity. I prayed for you. I prayed for them.
Ten years later.
Ten years ago, my best friend met me in the cafeteria with something called "Sex Cake" even though none of us has experienced the title. She wished me a happy birthday and we indulged in our fat kid ways, eating chocolate before first period.
Ten years ago, my history teacher was called outside the classroom by our principal (the perks of small schools). He came back in with a somber expression and turned on the television. He told us there was something tragic was happening in New York City. As a classroom, we all watched the news.
Ten years ago, sitting in my history class, I watched the second plane fly into The World Trade Center. I blinked, not quite sure what had happened. And then watched Channel 5 replay the footage over, and over, and over again. It never began to feel real.
Ten years ago.
Ten years later, I turned 26. I put on my most comfortable leggings, threw on some boots and a tank, and went to brunch with my roommate. I celebrated the night before with good friends, and resolved to go home early.
Ten years later, I decided not to plan anything, or do anything over the top for this birthday. Partly because I work in a job where I plan every last detail of other people's lives. Partly because it felt right not to.
Ten years later, I cringed at the idea of friends on the train to celebrate me, should anything occur at the hands of the folks who vowed to come back into our lives as abrasively as they did the first time. I stayed in my borough, traveled only within walking distance of my apartment, and hoped others did the same.
Ten years later, I silently celebrated life and my loved ones. I welcomed their well wishes, and sent along my own as a thank you. I prayed for serenity, patience, and longevity. I prayed for you. I prayed for them.
Ten years later.
Maiah, I saw the link to your blog on Facebook. This is a beautiful post. Wishing you a happy belated birthday. I haven't thought about "sex cake" in 10 years (Gosh, are we that old!?) but I certainly remember it :). Just wanted to say hello. Looks like things are going well in NYC and congrats on your magazine debut! Very exciting.
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