Happy Birthday to Me
The sun was trying desperately to shine through last Friday afternoon when I started writing this. After days and days of being shrouded in thick, damp clouds, I was ready for it. I was feeling melancholy Friday, and the sun, or lack of sun, had a lot to do with it.
I’m turning 45 this week. That also contributed to my recent subdued mood, even after a few days of sunshine. I have several friends that are hitting or have hit 40 this year. Understandably, they are experiencing the oh-shit-I’m-forty blues. And I get it. I don’t remember feeling that way about 40, but maybe I did. This 45 shit, however, it’s hitting me hard.
Recently I dug through some old photos and did some reminiscing. I found myself thinking back to when I was 15 and still in high school. Unlike many others, high school was a terrible time for me. I remember having an adult tell me back then that I was experiencing the best years of my life and I should enjoy them and I thought, “well if this is as good as it gets, why am I even here.” Clearly, that person had a much different experience than I did.
Thankfully, I made it through that time. During high school, I began to build a close group of friends with whom I worked. After graduation, that group blossomed even more, and those people became my extended family. Many of those friends became such a part of my life, and the life of my parents, that they didn’t even knock when they stopped over. They’d just come on in like “honey, I’m home!”
While my friendships were blossoming, I made some terrible choices in love. Some of it was purely “unluck” but a lot of it was my desperation to find that someone. My friends were pairing off and finding love and I thought that was the way things were supposed to be so I threw myself into lots of relationships (and I use that term loosely) for the sake of having someone. Being a highly emotional person, but not understanding anything about being a highly emotional person, I was often with guys who loved my passion for life but didn’t know what to do with all that emotion coming at them. To be fair, I didn’t know how to direct that emotion either. Loving big comes with the responsibility of being able to understand people who are unable to handle it. I wasn’t there yet.
When I was 25, I moved to South Carolina and experienced a culture shock that I never expected. I lived in a more rural area of the upstate and to say I was not like the other women my age in Seneca would be a major understatement. I had a hard time making close friends those first few years. I was quite the anomaly, being in my twenties and single. Some of the ladies my age were already on husband number two by then. I am not disparaging them; it’s a cultural difference, and one for which I was woefully unprepared. As a result of my single status, people tried to set me up. The thing was, I didn’t want to get in a relationship at the time. Because, guess what, if I was in a relationship, then I’d gain all kinds of friends…HIS friends. Then if something happened, I’d be out a significant other and all those new friends too. I know that seems extreme but it’s also pretty realistic. I didn’t want to find myself back at square one with no friends and feeling like a fish out of water all over again. That was something a lot of my new southern acquaintances didn’t understand. I needed time to acclimate to my new world without the burden of holding up a relationship.
When I was diagnosed with cancer at 28, I really began to reevaluate my life. Shortly after recovering, I finally got my own apartment, something I never thought I’d be able to do. I did a backward slide emotionally for a few years until I got myself back into therapy. That’s when I really started digging in and understanding myself. Finally, in my thirties, I began taking the time to understand and accept my thought processes instead of fighting them so I could be “normal”. It’s why I am such a proponent of therapy and I firmly believe everyone should try it! I am so glad to see the worldwide mental health conversation open up. I saw a commercial with Michael Phelps the other day and he was talking about his struggles. Ten years ago, heck, even five years ago, that would have been incredibly taboo. It gives me hope.
If I had been told at 15 or 25 that this is what 45 would look like, I would have scoffed. Although I never wanted children, I surely thought I would be married. Like any young girl full of hope, I pictured a fairy tale. Well, I did get a fairy tale, just not the one I expected.
I suffered through a few rainy, gloomy days, but the sun has been shining most of this past week both outside and in my heart. I realized that facing 45 isn’t so bad. Birthdays still mean surrounding myself with loved ones, getting to do things that make me feel good, and CAKE! I like cake. So, goodbye gloom, hello 45, and let’s eat cake! Happy Birthday to me!
