Happy Birthday to me

In the past, I dreaded my birthdays. They were a source of disappointment in other people who I never felt cared enough to do anything to celebrate my life, and disappointment in myself for another year when I didn't accomplish my few goals which were losing weight, finding the love of my life, losing the existential dread.

This year I'm over a hump getting into my late thirties and I feel differently. I feel content. I have steady work, I am getting straight A's in college, I have a mate who is considerate and stable, I am financially stable. I'm still chubby, but I don't care really about that as much as about my health. I've accomplished a lot this year and I see myself accomplishing a lot in the next one.

I never reached the exact goals, the the intense specifications I hoped for in my youth, but my goals have changed with the wisdom of age. I don't need a flat stomach and smooth thighs. I need to feel good and live a long healthy life. I don't need to marry a tall dark handsome prince. I can enjoy a relationship with a sweet, gentle, considerate partner.

My big goals for the coming year are to find a way to release bad memories and stop having nightmares about my regrets and anxiety over things that are long over now. To get healthier. To engage with my fellow humans in a new way, to consider them as the ends and not the means, and to treat them as though they are all important. In the past, because I felt everyone would leave me, I considered all relationships temporary and therefore unimportant. Because my heart was broken. But now I want to love people and do well by them, even knowing they may be temporary in my life, they are still important.

This year I will focus on my personal philosophy, re-evaluate my values, and be more grateful and present.