October, is the month of my birthday. Yeah I know, save it till the 25th.
The day will mark 29 years for taking breath each day, learning, growing and surviving on this planet. What do I have to show for it?
I used to dream I’d be married by 26th; having a kid by 28th ; and dreamt about an exciting designer, influencing career by the age of 30 already… Next year.
I’ve been expressing myself in so many ways throughout the years. From jewelry box and treasure chest cakes, to colourful funky fondant cupcakes through High school and University, to baking my own Adulting cake with an alcoholic accent for the past 4x years for celebration. I’ve never been one to enjoy my name day alone, and without a spectacle of a f=great piece of cake…
The shoes I’ve been walking, had been toned down to a sense of mediocre and that of performance, excellence and good manners with kindness. Which directly created a loop in which many friends had been lost to time’s responsibilities and different lifestyle roots; while others had only been present for the bells and whistles attached when good times were ever present. And then others, who are glued to me with such attunement – they make the world a better place.
A multi Faceted complexity. As friends come and go, my love for attention, gifts and affection remained. Adulting has its way of keeping you attuned towards your own rhythmic routine, in order to keep up with your own goals, and 9h-5h demands to pay the bills.
A birthday is just like any other day, and I’ve developed a dislike for mine.
So many things are different and had changed throughout the years. I don’t see family or friends as often. The rain had almost deserted us when it used to pour for days on my birthday weekend. What’s there to celebrate or reminisce on? How personal or collaborative is this celebration supposed to be as you get older? What is it supposed to mean, and what are you supposed to do?
I’m perhaps with longer hair in natural colour tone, slender and with a bit more knowledge cooped up within this skull of mine. Yet, not feeling as fulfilled as I’d hoped to by now.
Chuckling my way through the mess of uncertainty, whilst balancing being a badass at what I do…
Who am I, really, when I’ve had so many faces already?