I am not a big birthday celebration kind of person, as I always shy away from being the centre of attention. Many of my friends don’t even know my actual birthdate. But I felt that I needed to write this post, if only to serve as a reminder.
I found my 20s to be adventurous, filled with discoveries of people and places, and filled with fearlessness. I jumped as high as possible, and ran away as far as I could. All the things your 20s are supposed to be.
But I found it equally exciting as it was tumultuous. This decade was of loss and lessons alongside the struggle of figuring out who I was. I experienced heartbreaks one time too many, hardening my shell more and more as time went by.
So on my 30th birthday, when the clock struck midnight, I sighed with relief. It was as if I had been holding my breath until that moment, and finally let go.
As if my letting go needed to be more exhaustive beyond the breath, I also unexpectedly allowed myself to cry, not to weep, but to release – to release old heartaches and the tension my body held onto so tightly for protection.
That night, I slowly let go of what insecurities, uncertainties, and precariousness I could, wishing them to sail away with my 20s. In their place, I wished myself peace.
I didn’t have grand plans to be symbolic or introspective. I just wanted to a little bit of cake. Who knew I was also able to set a part of the past free…unexpectedly?