Birthday love.

On Wednesday it was my birthday. I turned 23. I have worried for quite a large chunk of this year that I was not going to feel very happy on my birthday. I thought I would feel lonely and scared and sad. Maybe that's a little bit silly, it is only a birthday after all, but I find them quite significant. It is the marker of another year that I have lived through, new milestones that have passed, new pains, new joys. It is a reminder to be thankful and that the world keeps on turning and that I am still here, still breathing and being. 

I was worried that I would be sad and that it would all be a bit of a flop because of all the sadness and anxiety over the last year. But this year, on my birthday, I was reminded of all that is good. I can even say, quite confidently, that it was one of the best birthdays I've ever had despite the fact that it happened in lockdown during a global pandemic. 

The thing about my 23rd birthday is that I was reminded quite overwhelmingly that wherever I am in the world and wherever I end up going next I am and will be loved. There were a lot of people who put a lot of effort into making the day special for me, my parents especially. I was thrown a Zoom party by friends I have only made in the last few months who were determined to celebrate with me. Two of them even performed a rap they'd written for me, which is something I never would have predicted for any birthday. I was given flowers and cake and bottles of fizz and cards and presents that had a lot of care and thought put into them. I felt spoilt, if I'm honest. I felt gloriously joyful and thankful all day long. I felt so loved. I felt, so completely, the opposite of loneliness. 

This is not to brag, though perhaps I am boasting a little bit. This is to show my enormous gratitude. I felt on top of the world and that is because of the people in my life. How extraordinarily lucky am I?