Yesterday was my 36th birthday.
After a busy week of work and potty training Miss Daisy, I woke up exhausted and headachey. In my sleepy, overstimulated state, I wasn’t sure if I had the mental capacity to cope with the rollercoaster of birthday emotions.
My parents came to visit. We went to lunch and took the dogs to the park. It was simple, sweet, and exactly what I needed. Just as they were leaving, it started to rain. Nothing beats a two-hour birthday nap with the window cracked on a rainy day. I joked that I must be getting old if good sleep excites me on my birthday.
Birthdays always bring reflective energy. I get lost in my head, thinking about all that has happened over the past 365 days. Thirty-five was a big year for me. I moved from small-town, rural Michigan to a Detroit suburb. I started working in a brand new field that I knew nothing about. I attended the Eras Tour sober. I brought home a second dog. I found a new therapist. I was 100% alcohol-free. When I look back, all I see is progress.
And yet, a year ago, I felt old and bitter and threw myself a pity party. I beat myself up, thinking I “should’ve” had a different life at thirty-five. I was angry at everyone who asked me whether or not I had kids. I was embarrassed to be living in income-based housing. I hated the exploitation that came with working an entry-level job. I was dry but lacked emotional sobriety. Resentment ruled my life.
This year, I decided to party with gentleness and grace. Anger, embarrassment, hatred, and resentment are no longer welcome at my birthday festivities. I refuse to allow my thirty-sixth trip around the sun to be a marker of inferiority. Everyone’s path is different. Just because my path doesn’t fit into cookie-cutter standards doesn’t mean I’ve done anything wrong. I am on the other side of a life-threatening addiction, after all. What could be more deserving of a celebration than that?
In honor of my birthday, here are thirty-six reasons to celebrate my thirty-sixth year:
I didn’t begin my birthday with a hangover.
I have been alcohol-free for twenty consecutive months. Plus, before that, I had 17 months of 98% alcohol-free days.
I am lucky enough to have parents who were willing to drive four hours round-trip for a two-hour visit.
I got a fancy Weber grill for my birthday!!!
I have two happy, healthy dogs that love me unconditionally.
I am not engaging in purging or restrictive eating behaviors.
I have the most wonderful therapist.
I had both cookies & cream cake and banana cupcakes yesterday, and I’ll continue eating cake for breakfast all week.
I am part of the best support group.
I have a hearing with the Secretary of State on April 2nd to determine whether or not I will get my driver’s license back (!!!!).
The tulips I planted last fall are starting to pop up.
I have been consistently getting eight hours of sleep all year long.
I am not on probation or in any legal trouble.
I have a cozy home.
I can pay my bills on time and in full.
Overall, my body is healthy and functions well.
I have been cannabis-free for almost four months.
I am a reliable employee.
I am not working in kitchens anymore.
Daylight’s saving is this weekend. Extra daylight = serotonin boost.
The birds are chirping outside my window.
I do not have kids. I can’t imagine raising little ones in today’s social climate.
I am alive. After nearly two decades of addiction, I am lucky to be here.
I don’t self-harm when I’m alone anymore.
I am getting to know myself without the expectations of others.
I got to rest without feeling guilty about it on my birthday.
My birthday is the same day as International Women’s Day, making it feel extra special.
Forty-two days until The Tortured Poet’s Department!
I received texts of love from friends and family.
My birthday tarot cards were the Sun, the Wheel of Fortune, and the Ace of Pentacles.
I didn’t feel the need to wear makeup or spend hours getting ready before my parent’s visit. It’s refreshing to show up as my real self.
I got another houseplant.
I managed the paradox of birthday emotions without numbing.
I gifted myself a four-day weekend away from work.
I got to blow out 36 candles and made a wish for the upcoming year.
For the first time in my adult life, I don’t think I am behind. My life is far from perfect, but I genuinely believe I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
One of my uncles called to wish me a happy birthday yesterday, and I started crying on the phone. Struggling with addiction for two decades resulted in countless people giving up on me, blocking me, and walking out of my life. The pain I have caused created a colossal tidal wave of shame, making it easy to forget that I am still loved. Birthdays are emotional because they shed light on the people who, after everything, remain in my corner. Birthdays remind me that I deserve a celebration of love, just like everyone else.
Even though I was tired from a busy week, I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday. I’m grateful to be at an age where I understand the importance of leaning into self-care instead of pushing myself beyond my capacity. A cozy, rainy day nap sure beats pouring poison down my throat to cope with the rollercoaster of birthday emotions.
When I was a kid, thirty-six sounded ancient.
Now that I am here, I don’t feel ancient at all.
I feel like I am just getting started.
Now that I am sober, my best years await.
Progress.
Happy Birthday Kelsi! I'm so proud of all you've accomplished.
If you want to talk about April 2 before April 2, then I'd promise to keep the conversation solely focused on tips for April 2.
You're incredible and I'll never stop rooting for you