I’m setting this to publish at the moment of my birth, one minute after midnight. I came into this world much later than planned. Which, I still point to as my reason for being on the later side of arrivals for many things in my life. I was so stubborn, even as a soon-to-be newborn, I refused to come out on the 8th. In fact, a few years ago my mother and I saw the delivery nurse at the hospital. She remembered me and said “Oh, you! You’re the one who made me re-do all the paperwork because you came out one minute past!” Apparently that’s not something that happens often? So yes, I was late, and then managed to irritate a delivery room nurse. That, combined with the fact I kicked my sister in the ear while in utero (she was sitting on my mother’s lap), makes me win at something surely.
At any rate, it is my birthday. I am feeling old. This day has been creeping up on me for the last couple of months. I will be 35. This age bothers the hell out of me. It sounds old. I have basically been Sally in this part of the movie for the past few weeks. I’m not looking forward to 40 either, trust me. But 35 is stinging nearly as much. I am officially in my mid-thirties, nothing exciting happens to you then, right? I think most of my negative feelings toward this age is all from society, and it’s all b.s. really. I can intelligently tell myself that, but the emotional me takes over and cannot help but feel certain parts of my life are done and over with. I’m not sure what I’m missing. I cannot point to something and say “well now this will never happen because I’m 35!” I can’t donate my eggs. If I smoked, I’d be at a greater risk of a blood clot while on the pill. If I didn’t already have children, there’d be a chance it would be harder for me to conceive. How does any of this impact my life? Not in any way, still it means that this age is different. I’ve crossed some threshold.
Society tells us that women over 30 are much less desirable. I’ve bought into this nonsense. I’ve been seriously down about this birthday. I have so much good in my life right now, there is no reason to be distraught about a number. I’ll keep telling myself 3-5 means little to me. I’ve promised myself to re-commit to my physical health, in diet and in exercise. It’s more important now than ever before to take care of my body. I’ve also assured myself I will keep doing more to nourish my soul and my mind. I’m reading more these days, dedicating time to my art and writing, and making efforts to explore and see new things. I’ve made enormous changes in my life, stood up to those who have tried to bring me down, I have found my voice and I keep making it louder. I’m embracing who I am on the inside, and appreciating all the parts of me (especially those that were kept quiet for so long). This time of my life is good, it’s great even. I need to celebrate myself, my time on this earth thus far, and the future ahead of me.
So, as I sip my tea, take a deep breath in and exhale, I tell myself once again it’s going to be alright. It’s a birthday. Be thankful you have yet another one. Celebrate. Smile. Love. Live.