Celebrating My Birthday as a Single Lady
My birthday is today. I’m 42 years old, but really 42 years young. I love my 40’s. I finally know that perfection is an illusion and I don’t have to strive for it anymore. I’m simply called to live the best version of me that I can, on any given day. And I think I’m doing a damn good job.
I knew that today would be a milestone. One of the “firsts” without my ex. But, I got through our anti-versary last month with such ease and grace that I wasn’t fully prepared to feel the gut punch today. Yet, I woke up and felt that punch full force. I talked about it with a girlfriend and here’s what she helped me to realize…
Birthdays are important to me. I love being the center of attention for the day. I love surprises and presents and special notes. I have gotten all of those this year so why the melancholy? Turns out it matters very much to me that I am somebody’s “somebody” for the day. I love all the Facebook notes and texts and greeting cards and phone calls. But I’m not somebody’s “somebody.” My girlfriend encouraged me to just sit with this, to learn from it, to allow both grief and play into my day. She suggested I can be my own “somebody.”
So, I’ve slowed down a bit today. I’ve allowed myself to feel some sadness. I saw my ex for a minute and allowed myself to tear up. He brought me an incredibly thoughtful gift. We love each other deeply, albeit differently.
And now I’m allowing myself to feel some excitement. I invited a bunch of friends to go out tonight. And I am overwhelmed by the number of people who will come to celebrate me
(and this after a lovely birthday picnic at Arrington Vineyards Saturday with many of the same amazing friends). We will go to a swanky rooftop bar and then hopefully still have energy for some dancing at Tootsie’s. This is how I know I’m 42 years YOUNG. This is how I’m being my own “somebody.”