Some thoughts and reflections on my 30th birthday :)
I’m proud of the woman I am. I am proud of my hustle, but also my stillness. I am proud of my healing. Of the time I’ve taken to understand and feel my pain. I’m proud that I’ve given myself freedom to feel deep joy. To find meaningful love. I’m proud to go to therapy. I’m proud of my courage, my anger, my awkwardness. I am proud of the relationships I have. I’m proud of how I’ve advocated for myself, how I’m learning to navigate the business of me.
Sometimes I almost can’t believe my life — that I’ve taken this leap, chased my passion, worked my ass off. That I get to eat delicious food. That I get to know and love so many amazing people. That I’ve survived, endured, and blossomed.
I hope this next chapter is filled with the hard and delicious work of believing in myself. I hope to free myself from the burden of what others may think of me. To trust in my own intention to do good and make good. I hope to be humbled, but never modest. To continue to learn, and expose myself to challenges that make my power one that is shared. I hope to be kind to myself and to others. To make space for feelings big or small, painful or joyous.
It is my wish for myself to be more fully present, settling into all the little moments that make this hard-won life so glorious. I hope to revel in my friendships, celebrate my family, and empower the good in others. I will continue to work very hard to love this body I’ve got. I will grant myself permission to do absolutely fucking nothing at times. To eat the foods my body craves. To set and protect boundaries I require. I hope to listen to myself more and grant that voice more attention than others. Give it more volume, more resonance.
And good god, I better have some fucking fun.
I better giggle and scream laugh and play. I hope I dance — yes, like the song, but — I hope to really fucking dance. Like an idiot, like a graceful creature. Like however I feel. I hope to see beautiful things, endure the sight of painful things, make changes whenever I can. I hope to practice gratitude but also to give it a rest once in a while.
I hope I write and create and fail and create some more. I hope I never give someone the power to grant or deny me permission to my own joy. I hope to get less awkward about money, gain more confidence in the value of my time and skill. I hope to tell people when they make me feel like shit. I hope I call people on their bullshit, and respond with grace when I am called on mine.
I hope I release myself from the crippling pressures of perfectionism, to accept myself as enough — a beautifully flawed, whole person who shows up. I hope to cut myself some slack when I’m depressed. I hope to grieve the people and things I’ve lost out loud. I hope to continue to heal, to cast out the shadows of doubt by casting light, even if it feels blinding. I hope to be honest with myself. To love honestly, celebrate earnestly. Improve steadily. And listen intently.
Once in a while, I hope to pause and marvel at the strength of my own backbone.