Birthdays

I've always had a bit of a hard time with my birthday. It's not so much the getting older thing, although some years (25 in particular) that has been an issue.

I think in some ways my birthday has always made me feel like an inconvenience. I was born at the worst possible time for my school teaching mother and although she went out of her way to make sure I had a party etc I always felt like I was adding to her workload. I was one more thing that had to be taken care of before the end of June. I think now that those feelings are more to do with me and my insecurities but they are my feelings none the less.

In Jr High & High school there were always exams on my birthday and more often than not I have been sick as a dog and miserable. I feel awkward when people make a big deal out of it but then a little bit disappointed when others don't. I associate my birthday with feeling strange about the passage of time, unsure of who I am/where I am/where I want to be/where I am actually going.

My most memorable birthday was the year I turned 23. I was in Ireland with Beth & Mel and we spent the day exploring Tara, getting caught in a sudden rainstorm, playing catch up on a pubcrawl and downing 2 litres of cider in what felt like 2.5 seconds, getting approximately 40 minutes of sleep before catching a plane back to Stanstead. I made out with a boy whose name I did not get, who may or may not have spoken English. Definitely my most rockstar birthday ever.

I was expecting yesterday to come and go and not be anything out of the ordinary. And in a lot of ways that is exactly what happened. I got up, went to work, talked to my parents, got a lot of birthday wishes on facebook, had icecream with Becca, had flowers delivered to the office, came home, had a nap, supper and gluten free cake with B and then drinks and dancing with some Calgary friends. But in the midst of the ordinary birthday celebrations something small and extraordinary happened. I felt really and truly happy.

I feel like the past year has been a lot of ups and downs. Some really amazing things happened - Niki's wedding, my trip to Mexico, buying my condo - but for the most part I feel like I spent the year slowly but surely closing doors. There were hard moments, there were bad moments, but mostly there were a lot of bittersweet this really sucks but I have to do it anyways moments. And yesterday, for the first time since that night of toboggoning with Sarah, I feel like I have a wide open future in front of me. The past is still there, and definitely not entirely dealt with, but it is no longer an insurmountable obstacle blocking my way forward. I am not entirely sure what that means exactly but I can't help thinking it is a good thing.

Fantasy vs Reality

I haven't been able to tell B why I am ... I am not even sure if I can articulate exactly what I am feeling ... why I am scared? nervous? stressed? ... about our high school reunion.

I can tell her parts of what is going on in my head, that I am worried about being judged - on who I am now, on who I was back then. That I feel pressure to look my best and think of interesting things to say and put on a worthy performance. Which is crazy because, for the most part, the people I care about from high school are people I see and they know and love me for who I am and all those other people don't really matter in the grand scheme of things. And yet, in some ways, I am hell bent on impressing them and I am in a head space where I am not even impressing myself so it seems like a mission destined for failure.

I think it is June that does it to me. My birthday is a reminder that I am not where I said I would be when I got here. And even though I am happy - I love my job, I love my condo, I am making new friends and enjoying time with old - I still want those things I have always wanted, that seem at times like I will never be good enough to get. I wonder why I don't have them, what I did wrong, what I am doing wrong. I wonder if I will ever be able to accept myself as I am and be appreciative of what I have instead of condemning myself for what I don't.

Our reunion is a week away and it is another reminder that I am not where I thought I would be.

But the real story, the one I haven't been able to talk to B about, is that all through my teens I swore that at my high school reunion I would prove a point. I would show all those people who were mean to me in jr high because my mom didn't give them the grade they thought they deserved or my mom was strict with them or because I was smart or whatever other logic jr high meanness has behind it, that I was someone. I would be stunningly beautiful and married to someone who obviously adored me and we would have beautiful children and in my spare time I would have done something wildly successful and ... Of course there was one boy in particular that this was directed at, a boy who I was crazy in love with in the way that only 12 year old girls can be crazy in love. A boy who tormented me and rocked my self esteem to its very core. A boy who would be fat and ugly and gross at our reunion and who would beg for a moment of my attention and I would stare haughtily down at him and walk away. A boy who is not currently fat or ugly or gross. Which is kind of fitting since I am none of the things I swore I would be either. And even though it doesn't matter anymore, it is still a reminder that I thought/hoped my life would be different.

I can look honestly at my life and say that I am glad I am where I am, but that doesn't mean I don't feel disappointment that the life I thought I wanted was all just a fantasy.

Girls

I just got home from watching Sex & the City with my best girl B.

It made me think about a lot of things, not the least of which is that I have been living in my own head way too often these last few months and I need to push myself to get it out somewhere even if it is in half formed sentences and incoherent thoughts, even if it does make people realize that I have moments of incredible insecurity and am sometimes neurotic. I think most people who know me are already aware of both those things. Because living in my head makes what is in reality very small and insignificant seem larger than life and tremendously scary. So maybe if I talk about it the dragons in my head and the monsters in my closet will shrink down to a reasonable size.

But that is not what this post is about.

Watching Carrie and her girls on the big screen made me think about my girls. Women really. And the myriad ways in which they have touched my life, have shaped who I have become, have given me images of where and who I want to be. They come in many different packages, have many different titles - my sisters, my trio of trouble, my breakfast buddy, my smart and beautiful girls -, and bring many different things to my life. But what they all have in common is that they inspire me on a daily basis.

I am truly blessed to have so many women in my life who love me despite (or perhaps because of) my quirks and many failings. Who have seen me at my best and at my worst. Who have tried to save me from myself, and failing that, stuck around to put me back together when I finally pulled my head out of the sand. They have danced, sang, laughed and cried with me. They have let me share their special moments and have had a hand in creating many of mine.

I may want a man in my life, but I NEED my girls. At different times and in different ways but also at all times and in all ways.