As my birthday nears, I’m feeling more and more sober about festivities and celebrations.
I initially wanted to have an open event, perhaps a bonfire, invite everyone and their moms to come out, enjoy the beach, the company, the gathering.
That’s usually what I gravitate toward.
There’s something about being around people I appreciate, people that appreciate me.
There’s something about connecting with others.
I truly enjoy and thrive in those settings.
But this year, something feels different.
I’ve become aware of a part of me that feels like I am a hassle, I am unworthy of truly celebrating me.
I realized I have these events in the hope of people coming out to connect based on the excuse that it’s my birthday. Does that make sense?
I realized when it comes down to it, I don’t know if I’ve ever looked at myself on my birthday and thought how wonderful it is that I get to be me, that I was born into the world and living this life.
And perhaps that’s funny because all I seem to be writing about these days…
but there’s something in me, when I had that realization, that felt sadness.
I felt like I had neglected myself, overlooked myself most of my life.
And granted, that’s been changing massively this past year and half, there’s a childhood and young adult life that had been lived in and by self-dismissal.
It was easy to let go of what I wanted, my own value because it wasn’t hard to meet others where they’re at.
It was easy to forego because fulfillment of my wants and desires didn’t seem as important and weighty as the rest of life.
It was even a sick pleasure to give up having and experiencing what I wanted because somewhere within, the sacrifice validated my worth.
And looking back on that, I feel sadness.
I feel the loneliness and emptiness and alone-ness.
I feel the self-rejection, in the slightest of ways.
It didn’t mean that the past events and people coming out were in vain.
No, they meant the world to me and they still do.
But underneath everything, I realized I was the one who didn’t know how to celebrate myself, not just this moment that captivates me,
but every part of my life, every part of this journey.
The whole of who I am.
This year, I feel the desire to quiet the craziness and loudness that birthdays usually entail.
I feel the pull to go within, to a very quiet and deep place.
I feel the beckoning to be with myself, be with all of me, to nurture myself, to honor myself, and to celebrate myself.
I’d like to sit with and honor the parts of me that didn’t feel worthy of myself.
Not with an agenda, but because it seems like the most festive and celebratory thing I can do with myself, for myself, this year.