I have been having the same conversation with myself for the past several days (perhaps weeks) and I cannot seem to make any real progress. I honestly do not know the answers. It is a trivial and silly conversation to be having in the first place, and I hate that. But it is real, so I am trying to face the feelings and figure out what the heck to do.
I’m turning 33 on March 12. It isn’t a significant birthday, it doesn’t even really matter. But here’s the thing, I’m a person who loves her people. I like to celebrate with them and in the deepest part of me, I long to feel loved; and if I am really honest, I battle whether or not I am worthy of being loved and if love will last. So as my birthday approaches, it brings up a wide variety of questions and feelings.
1. Do I plan something for myself?
I am fully aware that if I do not plan something for myself, there is a very real possibility that I will not be doing something. I can pretend that doesn’t matter, but it absolutely does. I will end up feeling disappointed and lonely and ultimately I recognize that will have been my choice. Even still, the little voice inside me doesn’t want to plan something. It feels lame and maybe self-indulgent. I don’t like big group events merging friends never goes quite the way I hope…
2. If I was to plan something, what exactly would I want to do?
This one is a little easier, I can start to put some parameters around this.
>> wine tasting, always a win - that birthday weekend with Jenny and Carrie in Temecula was the best
>> kayaking has been on the list for a while and sounds like a great little adventure
>> I’ve always wanted to try out the Duffy Boat - maybe THIS birthday is the time to do it
>> brunch at The Beachcomber - it’s on the beach and definitely special occasion
>> a little weekend getaway to Santa Barbara or Palm Springs
>> a day away at Glen Ivy - I even have a gift certificate
>> dinner, perhaps something a little extra fancy with drinks
3. If I picked an adventure, who would I invite?
Aright, things just got harder again. The harsh reality is that my closest people just aren’t local. Anna lives in San Diego, Amanda lives in Texas, and Emily lives in Missouri. THEN you add the baby layer - Kathleen has a 2-month old and while she would LOVE to be present, I’m not even sure it’s fair to ask her to come - she won’t have the heart to say no and disappoint me - but it’s really ok for her to need to pass on some of these things for a minute. I know that deep down. There are also my friends with the multiple kids - Carrie and Shannon have three kids each and while I know they’ll get sitters for those kids, a weekend extravaganza is probably out if I want them to come. I could BUILD a weekend with a variety of activities and people coming and going at different times…maybe I kayak with Schotty and Erica and then have dinner with Jenny and Carrie and Shan. Or Duffy with Mere and Abigail and brunch with Jim and Sandy (while missing our Hoadies something fierce). I think a part of me is afraid to ask anyone because I don’t know that I have it in me to hear the potential no. Maybe the lonely of the unknown is better than the sting of the rejection when knowing with confirmation you can’t be the priority.
All this leads me back to the same place I started. While I have SO MUCH GRACE for my friends and the season they are in…while I totally understand that my dearest people aren’t close in proximity and I am rejoicing in the fact that we love well from miles apart…while I am grateful for the MANY who are part of my life, I think there is a part of me that still grieves over being a bit of an island. It is not that I don’t feel loved because I do - I could stop right now and insert a list of names - people who will celebrate me on or around my birthday. I know I will not be forgotten. It isn’t that. It is just recognizing (yet again) this STRANGE moment in time that always seems to catch me off guard. This moment in which I am so very different than almost everyone else…where I am reading books and going to movies and walking the path behind my house to pass the days, while my closest friends are raising up babies and the days pass so quickly it’s a blur.
I trust the Author of my story and I will choose Him. I have learned THAT IS BEST over time. I know it will all make sense eventually, and though I can’t always see, I do know it will be more beautiful than I can comprehend (even if that doesn’t all unfold until heaven). But in the meantime, I still have NO IDEA what I want to do for my birthday. I know if I don’t do something I’ll be super bummed and disappointed in myself…but I can’t seem to make any real progress on what I really want…so…I guess I’ll keep ya posted. WOMP WOMP.
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