Today is my birthday. I am now 29, though since my best friend is currently pregnant I also happen to know that my organs and bones are much closer to 30 than anything.
It occurs to me that I am not in the place in life that I had hoped to be by now. The facts remain that I am painfully single and also childless (unless my dog counts), that my savings account is sad, and that I still do not love to wear bikinis or have a pet sloth.
Amidst these perceived disappointments, I made the conscious decision to let go of whatever arbitrary expectations I held for this age, for this place in life. And a funny thing happened. I realized that I am not, in fact, disappointed at all. I only thought I was, or thought I needed to be.
Because the rest of the facts are that I sometimes eat popcorn and wine for dinner. That my life is full of wonderful weirdos, deep friendship and generous family. That I am passionate about my profession. That my dog is awesome. That I live in a beautiful space with a spectacular view in the middle of a happening city. That I have a book club and a blog. That my heart has kept beating despite its diagnosis. That I have found peace, comfort and growth in the practices of meditation and yoga. That I am not stuck in an unhappy relationship. That I did not settle for a shitbag because I was too afraid of being single at 29. That I am learning to love myself a little more each day. That I am not alone, even when I am lonely.
And, if I am being honest, I have fantastic hair and that’s a fact.
So this is 29. It is not what I hoped it would be. But it is what it is and it is pretty fucking great. Because it is what I have, right here, and right now. In this moment, on this day, and in this life. What is not already history is a mere hypothetical, and all that matters is right in front of me.
As I embark on another year, I am nothing if not grateful. I do not have to spin in life’s vortex of shit and get pelted with its unpleasantness. Instead I can acknowledge that I, like everyone else, am doing the very best I can do and that is god damn good enough for now.
And with that, I’m off to celebrate. This Banshee needs some cocktails.
You keep me grateful. If all of my world fell away and I only had our friendshave, I would be lucky. Happy birthday sex haired lady.
Ya Know Banshee you’re doing phenomenally well so don’t sweat the small stuff-there’s plenty of time for all you desire! I just retired at 67 with 37 years of SW! Some things just don’t matter afte ra while-health, happiness and good friends do matter-oh and definitely start saving even it’s only a little every month!
Happy Birthday! You are doing well, indeed! Sometimes our expectations are illusions of early programming about “normal.” As I look back, at nearly 70, I see what Jerry Garcia called “a long strange ride” to which I add, mostly joyful! The downs make the ups higher. Bright Blessings for a wonderful year. BTW, MSW ’73
We need to clone you and have your younger self meet you.