On Friday I turned 37. There was little fanfare but there was a delicious dinner at Street & Company with champagne and some pot de crème, which is always a good way to celebrate in my book.

Before I went to bed I wrote in my One Line A Day journal and in reviewing the previous years it dawned on me that this was the first birthday in a very long time that I didn't have a total mental breakdown. Birthdays have generally been tough for me: for whatever reason, I take the passing of each year as a moment to reflect and think about all the boxes I haven't checked, and all of the things I should have accomplished by a certain age. I get down on myself and think "this will be the year that x, y or z happens and then everything will be great". And then it doesn't and another year has passed and I spend what should be a celebratory day feeling crappy. It's a vicious cycle and quite frankly, it's dumb.

For whatever reason, this was the year that I decided that I've had enough of the annual pity party nonsense. It's one thing to have goals and work towards them, and it's another to think that accomplishing one of them will magically solve all of your problems and everything will be amazing. I've come to realize that I'm exactly where I should be in this very moment, and just because my life doesn't exactly look like others at my age, doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with that. Things are actually pretty amazing, and I need to celebrate that.

So here's to 37. Life is good.

1 comment:

  1. Happy very belated birthday! Hope your 37th year is one amazing and brings you surprises that you don't expect!