September is my birthday month. Yippee!! Ok, so my birthday is not until the end of the month but nonetheless, I am excited all month, and I totally love my birthday. I know, I’m a rare breed. Most people cringe when their birthday arrives, hide in their bedroom all day, shut themselves out from the rest of the world, ignore the phone, perhaps even cry.
Not this chickie. I’m like a 6 yr old getting ready for the party of the year.
Party like a rockstar on your birthday
Now before you all go thinking I’m some sort of crazy party animal that can drink you all under a table, hold up. Not quite so. 30 years ago maybe. The day after my 50th birthday bash I was not so gently reminded of my age. I was 50. Not 25.
The garbage can on the side of the bed that acted as my *puke bucket* for the day reminded me of that. Oh, but fun was had by all that night. Wait. Fun was definitely had by me, I don’t remember if anyone else had fun but that night, it just didn’t matter. It was MY birthday and I was the star of the show.
Period. That was the last time I drank that much and that was almost 6 years ago.
I could never quite figure out why people hate their birthdays so much. It’s the most beautiful day of the year, besides Christmas. This is the day you were put on this God given earth to grow, learn, love, laugh and live. How can that NOT be awesome?
You hear people say “Omg I’m turning 40 this year, geez I’m getting old. It’s all downhill from here”. You’re kidding me, right?? They even say that at 50! Seriously? It’s all downhill from here if that’s how you want it to be.
If you expect it to be horrible from here on in then for sure it will be. Just for you. Not this girl. Turning 50 was the most exciting awesomest fabulous bestest day of my life. I made it this far and, man oh man, I got at least another 30 years in me. Woot!
I don’t look my age ( to me anyway, and of course, that’s all that matters ) and I absolutely don’t act my age. Ask any of my friends and family. They will positively agree to that one. But wait, I am young! I’m only 56 for goodness sake. I have so many fun exciting years ahead of me. Places to go, people to see, things to do.
I still have great health, a sharp mind and an adventurous loving spirit. That’s all I need (Ok so maybe money might help too). There is still so much life to be lived.
Just a number
56 does not mean I’m old or getting old or I’ll be a senior soon or anything like that. To me, it’s a number that indicates how long I’ve been on this beautiful planet for. I’ve been around for 55 years. Holy wow, I say!
That’s awesome, yes? In 56 years I’ve grown, loved, lost, laughed, cried, and most importantly learned a whole bunch of mindblowing lessons. I look forward to another 30 or 40 years of more of that stuff.
If you’re thinking that life is starting to go downhill each year on your birthday then it’s definitely time for an attitude adjustment. Get out there and live and have fun and make a difference! Stop looking at the numbers. I usually just tell people I’m 50 ish. ;-)
Who cares how old I am? I’m here, life is fantastic and that’s all that matters. I honestly think people want to know your age so they can compare themselves to you. Why do we do that? Most women my age are married, have a house, white picket fence, ready to retire from their government job, maybe a grandchild or two, golf on weekends with hubby, shop at Sears (haha I know some of you just say “hey I shop at Sears what’s wrong with that?”..lol).
Life is comfy, relaxed and normal. Compare that to my life?? Don’t even bother. But people still want to do that.
If you think that you still haven’t done some of the things you wanted to do, then go do them! Stop making excuses and get out there and enjoy this fantastic thing called life and, for love of God, STOP complaining about your birthday and age. Really.
Peace and Love
xo iva xo
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