So I say it’s my birthday…

Something odd has happened over the past few months….

I actually became my age.

I swore I was going landmark birthdays only from 30 on out.  30, 35, 40… nothing meaningless in between.

But recently, when asked my age… I’ve fessed up.  Just said the awful truth, that I’m 33.  A few times I even just said I was 34, seeing as my birthday is so close.

This would be my last year to be 30, according to my life plan of aging only every 5 years… and yet somehow I’m considering the possibility of just being 34.

It’s not so bad I guess, this age which I have arrived at.  I keep forgetting that I have a birthday coming up, and people keep reminding me by asking what I’m doing for it.  It’s like they are hoping I will make plans.

I’m not sure that Monday the 12th is really such a hot night for partying.

Dad is hoping that we can do dinner this weekend to celebrate it with my brother and nephew.  I said that would be fine, but now that I’m thinking about it I would almost rather find a different way to mark the occasion.

Bowling maybe, or some other activity.  A night out with friends and family or just family.. or two separate nights… it’s really hard to say what is best when in many regards I would prefer the day just pass unacknowledged.

From a girl who used to rent party buses to celebrate herself, this is an odd turn of events.

I’m here.  In my mind that seems to be enough.

Maybe because of others who did not reach their next birthday.. maybe because of a mother who isn’t here to see me reach mine…

either way… to just be here seems to be enough, and to highlight the occasion,  sort of morbid.

I keep thinking about my fear of aging and how I wanted to hang onto that age of 30 for as long as possible.  I dreaded what it meant to be beyond 30 and living the life I had.

Is it possible that each year has more value to me than it did when I started turning 30 year after year?

I don’t want to negate this time for what it is to me.  Each year has held a wealth of experiences and with it growth… although that hasn’t always been so apparent.

Perhaps it’s time… to just be where I am.  In nearly every other way I live each day just as I am, so why not when admitting that I’m older and wiser than I used to be?

Something to think about for a few days more until it’s time to transition to the next age of my life.

Says me.

S.