On April 28th, today, I turned 29. For the longest, I would always tell people I was “almost 30,” never to reveal my real age because there’s always stigma behind age. “Oh, you’re too young to be thinking about this.” or “You’ll change your attitude when you get older.” In those moments, I always felt less than — despite the fact that the elder folks that would tell me this were right on the money. I woke up today with an idea, and a new walk, new purpose, and a new grievance. Several people have informed me that I was going to hate 29. “It’s a year of proverbial purgatory,” my mother said. “You’re going to hate it because you always like to get to the root of the matter, only to realize that there’s no root when you get older,” she continued on the phone.
She was right. I hate not knowing the answer to things. I also hate not knowing the answers to questions that I ask myself. And I guess that’s what this is all about.
Black Gay 30 is my walk through the last year of my twenties through the lens of a well adjusted Black gay guy. It’s also about the freedom of my 30s. This is about me working through the questions I ask myself to not get an answer, but a better understanding.
Today, it begins.
Happy Birthday To Me.