When I turned twenty-nine, I realized with a laugh that I had missed my marriage deadline. Putting a wrinkle in my own self-imposed plan was freeing in a way I didn’t expect it to be. Because my life didn’t look at all how I thought it would, I was able to ditch the arbitrary adulthood checkboxes and go rogue, creating days and routines and a new set of priorities that I actually wanted. I was no longer borrowing coolness from Alejandro or envying lifestyles that felt out of my reach; I was too happy with mine even to care.
