My First Sad Birthday

If I am indeed proverbially “over the hill”…why does the future look like such a steep climb?

At first I didn’t know why I was doing it. My friends and family wanted to make plans—a big celebration, if I wanted. After all, your 40th birthday is a big one. You don’t get big ones every year, ya know. You’ve got sixteen, twenty one (18 if you were excited to vote, or smoke. I did one and was excited about neither).

Truth be told, I’ve never been much for birthdays. Don’t get me wrong, I love to celebrate others. But something about bearing a spotlight for such an innocuous thing has always made me a bit uneasy. That being said, I’ve never once rebuffed an offer for sing-songs and cake.

Until last week, when friends started asking.

“Whatcha doing for your special day?”

I danced and I dodged.

You know, I’m not sure. I can’t really make plans right now—not sure about childcare,, and it’s Easter weekend. I joked Jesus was stealing my thunder. Maybe I’d go for a hike or eat Mexican, who knows. I wasn’t planning much.

The truth is, I wasn’t planning anything. And I didn’t want anyone else to. For reasons I couldn’t quite explain—my upcoming, exciting 40th birthday had given me a case of the blues.

Over the years, I’ve had friends and family express a similar sentiment. When asked how they felt about an upcoming birthday, they’d express an unease, or outright dread. Maybe it was the first birthday since someone had passed, or some devastating event had taken place.

Why couldn’t they just put everything on pause, and enjoy their big special day?

I never got it, I guess, until now. This is my first sad birthday.

At first I felt guilty admitting it. But there’s nothing wrong with having feelings—and I sure as heck can’t control them. I have to feel them, let them come and go.

Like clouds passing in the sky. I can’t help it that my heart is overcast. I can control my emotions about as well as the weather. Meaning, I pretty much have to experience it.

When the sun rose this morning, I’d been up for hours.

Crying, reading, praying.

It’s not that I fear the passing of time, the wrinkles, or the gray hairs sprouting. I’m grateful for each new morning I find, and the crows feet that come along with it. But damned if this birthday didn’t sneak up on me. And I mean like a lion in the savannah.

It found me, unawares. Smack dab in the middle of an unsettling and hard life transition. One for which I was fully unprepared. One I am still just processing.

I’m a 40 year old single mother.

Just saying that brings tears to my eyes. I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know what’s in the cards for my heart, much less my finances. I don’t have a plan for how to get through this month, much less how to get to retirement.

My days right now are filled with joy and healing, sure.

But also, uncertainty.

If I am indeed “over the hill”…why does the future look like such a steep climb?

So at 3:30 the morning of my 40th birthday, I found myself on the couch. Texting a friend who is somewhat of a vampire, and working my way through emotions.

Naming my feelings as they came.

Afraid. I feel afraid. It’s okay to feel afraid.

Scared. I feel scared. And that’s okay, too. Life is scary and unpredictable.

…Lonely.

That one doesn’t make sense. I’m surrounded by people that love me well, including two children, six cats, and two dogs. Even as I write this, my home is coming to life and my kiddos are bouncing off the walls. Probably the last year an Easter Egg hunt will elicit about this sort of response—not gonna lie, that alone gives me a smile. A crack in the clouds for some sunshine.

And I’m reminded that my feelings are perfectly valid—but they are not, in fact, evidence of my reality.

I’m afraid, but the world is a beautiful place. It won’t always be scary and uncertain. There is joy to be had in my future. I just have to hang in there.

I’m scared, but I have the support of my family. I’m not navigating this storm alone. The waters are rough, but I’m surrounded by tugboats. I’ll make it out of this year in one piece.

I am lonely.

No wait, I feel lonely.

But that doesn’t mean I’m alone.

There is an immense amount of love in my life. I just have to stay open and receive it.

I’m coming to terms with the arc of my life. I’m grateful to be here writing it. But in this moment, I’m feeling the weight of a birthday that finds me unready for cake.

It’s okay. Ready or not, I’m going to eat some damn cake.

I am indeed grateful to still be alive. I am counting my candles as blessings.

And when I blow out my candles at the end of the day, I’ll be making a few quiet wishes.

That my heart heals. That I figure out my financial future.

…and that next year, we all sing karaoke.