tomorrow i turn 37. birthdays are a big deal to me. i like being celebrated and feeling loved… special. but this year’s birthday hangs in a cloud of grief that i know cannot be shaken loose. i know it will shift with time. and despite my trying to rush beyond the pain, it is still here.
i’ve been feeling extremely lonely lately. being single tends to do that for me. i’ve learned to place romantic relationships on a pedestal and without one, i feel *so* alone.
now, i have wonderful friends and community. and the wise part of my brain recognizes that. and i feel so fortunate to be loved by several lovely humans.
yet the weight of my singleness aches in my bones this year.
yearning, still, months later, for a man who doesn’t want to be with me.
sitting with the grief of last year’s ending of my marriage to my best friend.
shame for this self-induced loneliness due to cutting ties with my family.
and years of utilizing self-isolation as a (not always healthy) coping mechanism.
i find myself feeling like i often do around the holidays. like i’m meant to be excited, joy-filled, happy.
yet those states have been harder and harder for me to reach lately.
some friends recently asked how i wanted to spend my birthday. and we, somewhat jokingly, landed on howling at the moon in the middle of the woods. and maybe that’s what would be serve me this year.
i’m finding that birthdays and aging are less about a big party with people who barely know me… the real me. but instead choosing to surround myself with friends and (chosen) family who can support and love me, no matter my emotional state. and lord, there are so many!
if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. thank you for being here. thank you for seeing me. thank you, thank you, thank you.
here’s to 37. and learning to love myself, partnered or not. lonely or not. happy or not. grieving or not.