My birthday is less than a week away which means the pre-birthday identity crisis I panic my way through every year is in full swing. In the weeks leading up to my birthday, I begin to question how I spend my time, whether or not my actions over the past year have been meaningful in any lasting way, and if I’m ever going to be as wonderful, talented, and accomplished as I hope to be. I dissect, inspect, regret, and pine. I resolve, commit, plan, and plot.
The drawback to being someone who is pretty nearly always trying to improve herself is rarely being content with who I am. I always want to be better and do better. But two nights ago, I decided I needed to shift my focus to appreciation and celebration. This past year has been a year of immense growth, humongous changes, and fantastic adventures, and it deserves to be reflected on with gratitude and joy. I became a foster parent to two phenomenal girls, my husband’s business became successful enough to support us, I enjoyed many adventures including a fantastic family vacation this summer, I met brilliant creatives who became my friends, and I made progress as a writer and artist among many other ordinary joys. Thirty was a marvelous year. I look forward to thirty-one.