Lyrical Logic

I’m sitting here, on the eve of my 27th Birthday, and I can’t help but reflect at how far I’ve come in the last year. How much my life has changed, and how crazy it is to me that it’s only been a year. My life feels like I should be in my late 30s right now, but I was reminded today that I will in fact only be 27.

Today was a normal day. I did laundry, I meal prepped for the week, and I think the only thing out of character was I made sure the apartment is clean so I don’t have to worry about it tomorrow. And really, it’s just me and the cat so it doesn’t get too dirty too quickly. I’ve never really liked my birthday, I just hate the attention. I don’t do anything special, I’m just me. So, I just tend to not even tell people, but work has a habit of announcing it to everyone. I told my therapist I told everyone I didn’t want anything, that I just wanted to go through the day in peace. To which my therapist told me that was a load of shit and I needed to let people celebrate me.

First and foremost, the only person I was worried about making a big deal about my birthday is my boss. We have a close relationship, and it’s more like sisters than employer and employee. We have the same sense of humor, our brains work the same way, and frankly, she is the first person who bought me a drink after my divorce. She’s all about work/life balance (though she rarely practices it herself) and is just an amazing human. When I told her she couldn’t do anything for my birthday, I saw the wheels in her head start turning. My therapist told me it’s good to let others celebrate me. That it’s healthy even to allow some attention to shine onto me once a year. I took it to heart. And I told my boss that she could in fact tell the office and do whatever she was going to do. She turned 40 in November, and I went all out. Balloons in the office, a tiara, birthday sash, even got cake and a picture of her sleeping with my cat (yes, she loves my cat).

Mostly, what I’ve done today, is try and prepare myself for tomorrow. I truly hate the extra attention it will bring, but I’ll let her do her thing. It will be great, she will bring donuts (confirmed) and make brownies or cake (she confirmed what I like). I’ll glare at her the entire day, but be grateful someone has taken the time to care. All in all, it will be fine. But a year ago, this never would have flown.

A year ago I never, ever, would have started this. Let alone keep up with it and truly make it a regular part of my life. A year ago I was crying myself to sleep because I was completely and utterly heartbroken. A year ago I felt alone, like no one cared, and like it wasn’t worth me trying to keep going. But tonight, as I sit here, I can’t help but laugh and smile at how much good has come in the last year. Because if I weren’t living it, I wouldn’t believe it.

I had just changed jobs, and was terrified of screwing it up. I had just brought home this kitten who was cuddly and sweet and loving. My divorce wasn’t yet final. I was living with someone. I was fighting for my life. Today, I confidently do my job, having earned the respect I receive. My cat is an asshole and a terrorist (whom I love dearly). I’ve been divorced for 11 months. I live alone. I’m thriving.

I don’t really have a great poem idea in mind tonight. Honestly this day snuck up on me. I only realized it as I laid down to go to sleep and decided I needed to capture this moment. So that way, a year from now, I can look back on how much things have changed. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be in the same apartment, at the same job, with the same cat, and still thriving. I can’t say that I’ll be single or that I’ll still wonder if I shouldn’t try dating, but I can say that I’ll still be me. And hopefully, with another year under my belt, closer to figuring out what it looks like to just be me.

Let people celebrate your birthday. Even if you hate it. Just make sure they know your boundaries. Because you still need to be comfortable and okay.