I turned 33 on May the 4th. Yes, I’m a proud member of Star Wars Day- ‘May the 4th be with you.’ Anyway…before every birthday I get very contemplatey. (If Fake News gets to be a word, so does this).
Things are happening in my writing career. Not because they just happened. Because I worked extremely hard to make them happen. But they are small things which seem bigger than they are. At the same time they’re big because they took so much to bring to life. I’m proud of myself for making them happen. I’ve earned them. And I wanted to share those good things with someone…
When I realised I didn’t have a ‘someone.’ It made me sad. Really sad. And my brain started working overtime- maybe I’ll never have a ‘someone’ to share things with? As I wallowed in my self-pity, I decided to give up. Because what’s the point in working so hard and not having someone to share your wins with?
Oh yes, a raging, dark cyclone threatened to unleash a full scale apocalypse inside my head. Until…
I got on to Facebook and checked out the upcoming birthday celebrations I’d planned with my girlfriends. (That’s what everyone turns to when they’re sliding into deep despair don’t they- FB)? Anywho, I looked at my friends that were coming. Really looked at them. Not in a stalky way. In awe. I know they’ve each been tested in ways that have almost broken them. But they survived. They’re all strong and fierce in their own way.
And I’m so lucky they came into my life. Because for this reason I’m never alone. I never could be. My girls have always looked after me- when I fell over too drunk to twerk to Beyonce, when I cried so hard my face was uglier than Claire Danes in any episode of Homeland EVER and when I was so hangry I almost beat up a mouthy jerk at a music festival. Whether I was right or wrong they were there. Always.
We are never alone. There’s more love in our lives than we think. There may not be a ‘someone’ but there are always people that care. We are made stronger by these people. These friends will always be there, when the ‘someones’ aren’t. But we have to take care of them, like they take care of us.
Finally…Writing this post was hard. Being honest about not feeling so good is hard. But realising you have more than you think you do is a good feeling. And so is being truthful. Because I feel like if I can’t be honest at 33, I never will be!