This post could very well read like a “Oh right, she’s just saying that to cover up what she’s really feeling”. Or, “She’s faking bitterness and loneliness”. And if I didn’t know me, I’d probably be reading it the same way.
But here’s the thing – tomorrow I’ll be waking up another year older, with only our cats and dog in the house, and I’m pretty darn happy with that. It’s not to say that every year will feel like this, but for now, it’s amazing.
I will get to celebrate like I want, I will wear the lipstick I want, I will eat cake, and the birthday “attention” I get on the day won’t be threatening or irritating to anyone. And chances are I won’t get fought with like the last few years. Most of all, I probably won’t be disappointed, because I’m not reliant on anyone, and the only expectation I have is from me – to enjoy a day and just submit to whatever will be.
I also have a small yet wonderful group holding me up this birthday, a cool day planned, including a get-together, which is something I haven’t done since my 30th birthday dinner, I think (you do the maths – it was a while ago).
Here’s to a deep sigh of relief. And another deep breath that will go towards blowing out my birthday candles.
x Your Thirty-Something Mom
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