My 50th birthday was almost a week ago.
And I really wanted it to just go away. Couldn't I skip from 49 to 51 and be done with it?
Because I had a really, really bad feeling about this.
The Husband asked me earlier last week what I remember about my birthdays growing up and I told him, "Nothing." I have no actual memories of any of my childhood birthdays, other than the one where I had my one-and-only slumber party with four friends.
So, before the big day, I was trying to amp myself up. I was trying to feel better about celebrating and see it for the truly remarkable milestone in life that it is.
But. My 50th birthday sucked. And I'm still attending my pity party.
I told The Youngest, who I was able to spend time with that day, that it's okay to have a pity party when things aren't working out; you just can't bring your pajamas.
Well, I brought my pj's, a book, my beauty care bag, some snacks, and a blanket. I'm here for the long haul.
Literally, everything that could go wrong that day, did:
—Taking the car to the car wash
—Hair stylist not having my appt time right
—The Husband getting sick
—Eating a 7-course meal by myself
—Not opening presents
—Not riding Spaceship Earth
But the worst thing?
I didn't feel remembered.
Those who remain in my immediate family, my mom and my brothers, did not remember me.
I am not saying this to place blame or make anyone feel bad. I know that everyone is living in their own world, in their own season, and it's hard to just survive some days.
My mom, she's in the world that dementia has placed her in.
The first person who ever met me doesn't remember who I am. Doesn't remember that, after having three sons, she prayed for a daughter and God heard her. Doesn't remember that I shared a birthday with her only sibling, her sister, and that we had many joint celebrations over the years. And it just hurts. So much.
My brothers, they're in their own season of life struggles.
And to be honest, they were never really great at remembering birthdays, anyway. The Oldest Brother said he ignored it on purpose, so he wouldn't add any more misery to my day. I'll give him that. Sounds like him. :-)
My daughters, SILs, B-Son, friends, and even my clients celebrated.
The Oldest sent me a gift I've been wanting for years that will take me years to complete—think very large LEGO set; her Hubby sent me greetings and a gift combined with laughter. The Youngest was able to spend time with me at EPCOT, put an obnoxious "headband-not-crown" on my head, and kindly let me mope around the world; her Soon-to-be-Hubby added fun frivolity at the end of the night. I heard from two dear friends, one from the past, one from the now, who both made me smile. And my favorite clients sent me emails and even a birthday video.
My husband did his best.
He had planned for us to have an extravagant meal in Paris, France, EPCOT-style.
Seven courses, including a freakin' fish course (yes, this has been on my bucket list for years —√)
EPCOT is my favorite Disney Park, I can spend hours just wandering around the World Showcase. It takes me outside of my inner-mind world, which I sometimes really don't like, and provides comfort and peace.
But not today.
The Husband ended up getting sick over the weekend, and where he made a gallant effort at walking around EPCOT, I knew he was not feeling like himself, so I relieved him of his dining duty.
I could have opted for The Youngest to join me. I found out later my dear friend would have driven 40 miles to join me. But I didn't feel like I would be good company for anyone. It was taking every ounce of strength to keep my eye make-up intact, if you get my meaning.
So, for two hours, I did celebrate.
With and by people I had never met.
The maître d' and le serveur spoiled me. They doted on me, checking on me more frequently than they did the other guests who were seated in the same area. Yes, I did count how many times they came to my table versus the others, and it made me feel significant.
There was no music playing, and I asked the le serveur if I could quietly listen to a traditional French songs playlist on my phone and he said, "Of course! Why ask? It is your special day!" (He didn't say it quite like Lumière, but it was close.)
And when it came time for dessert, when the maître d' exclaimed a woman who looks as young and beautiful as I should not be wearing a "headband-not-crown" that said '50', I just melted into the pool of chocolate he created with my sphère en chocolat fondante.
They did such a wonderful job of making me feel special.
But I was alone AND lonely, which is unusual for me.
Some weeks ago, as I was contemplating what this day would look like for me, I shared this on social media:
I don't feel this is an accurate picture of my life.
I've spent the FIRST fifty years of my life giving it away.
Most oftentimes, it's been freely given, out of love, compassion, and a fierce devotion to care for my family. Or to succeed in whatever field I'm working in or whatever task lies ahead of me.
I look back on the past 50 years, and my life has been a "gift that keeps on giving" to others.
But those other times in 50 years… Other times, my life, or maybe more aptly put, my essence has been taken from me, against my will, by those who do harm, and by those who chose poorly.
So, it feels like the NEXT fifty years of my life is when I'll be accumulating wisdom.
As I've been on a healing journey for, wow, almost 13 years now, I keep learning more and more about myself every day.
What I want and do not want.
What I can and cannot.
What I will and will not.
Who I am and who I am not.
And it's freeing, yes, but it's also very, very scary.
Because for so long, I've only known one way of living - for others.
And to consider what another way of living - for myself - may look like, is a challenge.
The challenge is loving without losing me,
Holding on to who I'm meant to be.
The Oldest believes in the Law of Attraction, the idea that positive thoughts bring positive experiences, while negative thoughts bring negative ones. It suggests you can attract what you want by focusing on positive intentions and visualization.
After the events of the past week, I'm beginning to think she's right.
So, I'll pack up my things here soon. I'll put my items back into my overnight bag,. But I feel like I still have some contemplation and reflection over the past 50 years that are asking me to stick around and not yet leave the slumber party I've been at.
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