I don’t like birthdays. I haven’t for over a decade or so. It’s nothing to do with my age or getting older, because as far as I’m concerned you truly are as young or as old as you want yourself to be. No, the reason I don’t like birthdays is because they have always been filled with nothing but disappointment, both in myself and in others. They have simply become an annual reminder of my own inadequacies and those of the people surrounding me.
The week before my birthday is spent swinging between hope that this year will be different, and a deepening despair, that nothing will ever change.
This year is completely different. This year I had enough. This year I have made some big changes for the better, and there are some ongoing changes too.
This year I have a new place of my own, paid for through my own efforts and not lining the pockets of someone who already has far more money than me. I have (as admittedly I have had for a while) a fab fella, who looks after me well, and doesn’t forget those special days.
This year I am very definitely not disappointed in myself.
I also refuse to be disappointed in others either. Instead of berating the people who “don’t care” enough to contact me on “my day”, or who “can’t be bothered” to send a card or message to me “let alone”, actually get one to me on time, I’m letting go.
I’m deleting people from my address book, and moving on. I am getting rid of them for one reason and one reason only. I am worth more, and from now on I am only surrounding myself with positive do-ers, and no negative nancy’s.
I am cleansing myself of bad vibes, because it’s my birthday, and just for once I am determined to enjoy it!