I’m terrified of getting older, and it’s such a cliche that I can’t even take myself seriously.
When I considered the idea of adulthood as a child, it was imagined as expansion. Like the Big Bang, a multitude of unidentifiable matter and squiggles of energy would churn together until it became this breathtaking picture of a future formed. I would do yoga every morning as the sun rose and love my job (one where I simultaneously helped people and got paid considerably to do so.) I would grow vegetables and flowers and never sleep too late and call my mom every morning. My clothing would be impeccable, and my knees would never creak. I would be married, though I would keep my last name, which he would understand and always listen when I discussed the rampant issue of queer-baiting in media. I would have a gorgeous child that somehow manifested perfectly outside of my uterus, and for whom I would buy tiaras and chemistry sets and the Harry Potter series.
At the moment, I am racing towards twenty eight and my greatest commitment is making coffee every morning and remembering to feed my cat. I do yoga maybe once a week and my knees groan in petulance every time. The only plant I ever cared for was a cactus that died within three months, probably from mortification, and my partner and I have loved each other for eight years and still stumble over anything resembling feelings.
When I do call my mom (not every day, but close enough), she always reminds me that she’s proud of her queer, feminist child that orders take-out religiously and still doesn't know how to do her taxes, even if I should really eat more vegetables.
I am reminded that the Big Bang is still unfolding inside of me, a universe hidden beneath tattooed skin - carbon dust and kinetic energy crashing together.
I may not know what I’m doing, but I’m built of stars, nonetheless.
I am an author, actor, superhero, and future companion to the Doctor. I am a regular contributor for Quail Bell Magazine and presently live in Denver with a cat who thinks she's a princess. You can see me pretending to be a professional at RenMartinez.com.