Birthdays: This is 49
When I opened my eyes yesterday all I could see was a celebration in pastel colored balloons and crepe paper garland - my 15 square meters apartment was beaming with delight as the early morning sun kissed every inch; including me.
I smiled knowing that there was a perfectly boxed Yann Couvreur Merveille Praline chocolate cake teasing me from my fast, with celebratory “4” and “9” pink and teal candles to make it official.
The smell of roses filled the entire space and added the perfect touch of romance, and four new dresses called to me for the big decision. I spent the whole day in the white and gold one with fancy earrings, my gold jewels and curled hair.
This is 49.
I’m a HUGE birthday person, in case all of that doesn’t indicate so - and I always have been. And by the time you reach 49 you’ve experienced every kind of birthday possible. Early birthdays meant I got to choose the exact cake I wanted and everyone in the family received a gift. I’m not sure where this family tradition came from but it was a happy one. I left home shortly after my 18th birthday, did the thing you do on your 21st, was married by my 24th, and divorced right after my 34th. I marked my 40th in grand style in Napa and gave myself the gift of racing my bicycle for a season. The rest of this decade has been a string of solo celebrations sometimes shared but mostly not. Last year’s birthday is the birthday I suppose everyone has once in their life, it was one born of good intentions but it ended in painful heartbreak. I made it up to myself a few months later with a solo trip to Venice.
My day yesterday was filled with one beautiful delivery after another, as I type this I am surrounded by bouquets and feeling dizzy in all of the right ways by their intoxicating beauty; is there anything more beautiful than a French rose?
Once a year people from all over the world come to your Facebook page to leave you love; thank you Facebook for keeping a record of all the birthdays in my life and thank you to each person who left a message for me - it’s going to take me a week to personally respond to each one of you.
Just like many things in my life birthdays are about self love - aren’t all things really?
Last week I reminded the women in my heart program that equally important to sharing your love language with a partner is the idea that you should be loving yourself in your love language too - radical, I know. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned with birthdays relies on the same theory: you should plan to birthday yourself equivalent to how you feel about birthdays; everything else is icing on the cake.
Ever felt disappointed because you expected a certain birthday (thing) to happen and it didn’t? (If you are not a big birthday person and you are still reading this, now might be a good time to scroll on…)
At 49 I’m owning it.
I love birthdays and I want to feel special all day, sometimes all week, and often times all month long, and I’m no longer expecting anyone to make this happen for me except for me. I spent an afternoon shopping for every bit of this birthday goodness as if I was shopping for my beloved. When I couldn’t decide between the white dress or the black dress, I bought both. No haphazard bouquet or gateau selections, only the most loving care. As music played the night before I carefully balanced on all surfaces possible to reach the attic walls with tape and string; my Martha Stewart gene in action.
It seems so simple to gift yourself in this way, and the simplicity is still bringing me so much joy.
As I shared my day on social media yesterday I lost count of the messages I received from women around the world who said that they were inspired by how I love myself, and by how I celebrated my birthday.
This is 49.
At 10pm as I watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle for a full five minutes I felt the deep peace of my aloneness and an absolute love that has been the gift I’ve been giving to myself for the last decade - it is tested in times like this and if there are any cracks, light floods in.
The last thing I did before crawling into bed last night was light the candles and sing Happy Birthday to myself. My wish has already come true.