I’m a birthday girl. All month long. Yep, I might event extend it into a whole season because it has been so damn good to get older. Getting older has meant that I could make grand plans and have none of them work out and still go to bed with a goofy grin. Getting older has meant that I celebrate this life and this body every single day in the smallest ways that are huge to me and how I continue to move in the world. Getting older has meant allowing myself the space to move and stretch in the ways I want to and feeling pretty damn good about it.
I celebrated my birthday the following ways but in no particular order:
I ate oysters and drank champagne in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.
I caught a nasty virus and allowed myself to simply sleep through it for a whole day.
I ate the most amazing whoopie pie.
I walked and walked and walked with no destination in mind.
I bought myself gorgeous peonies.
I kissed someone I was really excited to kiss.
I ate cold leftover fried chicken for breakfast.
I fired up the charcoal grill for the first time this season.
I went to a bar and talked to a stranger who happened to share my birthday.
I held hands with someone I’d really been wanting to hold hands with.
I consciously let the battery on my cell phone die.
I returned phone calls and texts.
I didn’t return phone calls and texts.
I stayed up all night reading.
As women, we don’t often give ourselves permission to do as we please unless it’s some sort of response to stress or it’s a rebellion of some kind. How many times have we planned celebrations out of obligation and not out of genuine desire? What would it feel like if we stopped to think about and do exactly what we wanted to do when given the chance? I can tell you exactly what it feels like: a birthday party where you invite who you want, eat what you want, dance to the music you want, and stop when you’re good and ready. Getting older has meant that I can make my birthday party every single day if I want. So happy birthday to me! Over and over again!!