11:16 am - Wednesday, July 18 2018
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Notes From the Other Side of a Birthday

So. I am 27. As of Thursday.

I had a birthday. A stay-at-home, put-on-a-dress, and-makeup-too, love-filled birthday. It was as fabulous as I could hope for being surrounded by my three best men on Valentine’s Day.


I like my birthday. The day is always love-filled and I am always placed right in the middle of it in my family – getting doted upon and waited on and showered with favorite things (scallops and white wine anyone?). But…

I don’t like getting older. I never really have. It isn’t the embarrassment of the age that gets me (I’m still too young for that). It isn’t even that I am afraid I’m getting too close to the end of forever. The fear and anxiety I feel lie with the past, not the future.

I always have that nagging sensation that I’m not quite done with my previous age. I worry that I didn’t accomplish everything I should have accomplished; didn’t seize every opportunity available. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll move on to the next year and miss 26; 16; 6.

That pesky nostalgia of ages, gnawing at my soul, holding me back from entering a new year with courage and intention.

I remember feeling this way when I turned 13. A teenager. So exciting, and yet? What if I missed childhood? Teenagerhood would always come, but I wouldn’t mind holding it off for just a while longer. If only I could. Each birthday passed and I felt like this. At 17. At 19. At 20. At 25. The worry that I might have held myself back in the previous year was holding me back from the coming one.

Birthdays are always a reminder of that constant worry that I am not living up to my potential. What have I accomplished in my life? What have I made of myself? Time, time, time is tick tick ticking away. And I am getting to the point where all my dreams should be realized, right?

Along with age comes maturity. And a little bit of understanding.

This year, for maybe the first time, I realized that 27 isn’t the end. Growing older doesn’t represent the end of something, but hopefully the beginning. I don’t need to have it all figured out yet. I don’t need to worry that I haven’t yet hit my stride or found my niche or fulfilled my dreams.

The truth is, I want to be something. I want to know my passions are being put to good use. I want to feel as though I am accomplishing something with my life. And believe it or not, I worry about this a lot. I have worried about it from the day I started realizing that those dreams that could all come true could only happen if I made them happen. But worrying doesn’t accomplish anything.

26 taught me that if I focus on what I love, my dreams will slowly start to become reality. With that in mind, 27 isn’t really that scary. Not even a little bit. In fact, it is downright exciting.

Aging Quote

If this struggle resonates with you, be sure to read these too:

Great Expectations

Great Expectations



Notes From the Other Side of a Birthday

Am I Happy?


Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommysMiracle/~3/Bk_BtR2or14/notes-from-the-other-side.html

About Mommy Miracles

I’m Laura. Wife to Dan. Mama to Cameron and Gavin. Blogger. Photographer. I’ve been declared “baby crazy” by my husband. I’ve been blogging since 2003 when I was a teenager. My first blog post ever begged forgiveness for all the future blog posts that would follow. Consider that still in effect. I met my husband through blogging, I planned a wedding while blogging, and we tweeted the births of both of our sons. Consider this my memoir, my legacy, my letter to my children and my hand reaching out to other Moms. I love being a wife. I love being a Mom. I love blogging. And I can’t wait to meet you.


The views and opinions expressed in this content are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of haligonia.ca.


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