Sweet tooth and turning 22 

I turned 22 about two weeks ago, and like every other birthday before this, it was just as special to me, but apart from the lovely dinner with my friend, nothing bizarre happened.

No mind-altering prophecies came to me in a flash of bright light, no ‘click’ or a shift in the gears of my brains, no sudden realisation that life is happening to me quick, and none of that crashing wave of nostalgia. I really just woke up, got ready for class and went about my day as usual. 

The only thing I realised, was that I had developed a sweet tooth of some sort as I craved for nothing more than something sweet for my breakfast and the weeks before that. This craving inevitably led me to downing what was left of the bubble tea from last night. Not exactly the 'breakfast for champions' people talked about but it was enough to satisfy this palette of mine. 

Is this normal? The developing a sweet tooth part, I mean. I had never been a fan of saccharine things – that was the only thing I failed to inherit from my mother. Even as a kid, my go-to choice of chocolate was dark and I had layered jelly cake in place of those colourful, wrapped in fondant and icing ones for most of my birthdays. So, you could imagine how confused and conflicted I was of this discovery. It was like someone else had overtaken my body.

Or maybe this was a completely normal dental progression. Your baby teeth gets replaced by your adult ones and those ones get replaced by the ones that has a hunger for sweet things. I must have fallen asleep when the visiting nurses were explaining this to my year 1 class. 

Or maybe after years of being thrashed about by the merciless “early 20s”, I’m yearning for something sweet and soft and tender. I understood now of the growing pains songwriters and authors wrote about; I understood them all too well. It wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t all good either, it was bittersweet and despite all of that, I think it has shaped into the women I am today (of course, she’ll continue to grow and change overtime). Through those lonely and confusing times was when I learnt who I was and but mainly, who I wasn’t. So, can I have a breather now that I’ve put in the work?

I guess I have the rest of my 22 to figure that out but one thing’s for certain: I’m going down to the grocery store for a tub of Ben&Jerry’s right now.