I turn 28 today.
Another year older.
More cake to eat.
Another birthday candle to make a wish on.
I’ve sort of reclaimed myself this past year.
Last July, a month after I turned 27, I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself.
I was battling PPD/PTSD and was drowning in unhappiness, even though I was finally a mother just like I wanted.
I wasn’t wearing make up, wasn’t getting my hair did like I used to.
I started therapy in July, and slowly I started to heal.
I realized that I didn’t need to feel the way I was feeling.
I didn’t need to be a prisoner to my pathetic-ness.
I realized that years of being fucked up would not change with the birth of children (on the contrary, It would bring it out to the millionth degree.)
This year, I finally know my self worth.
I know that- you know what?
not everything is my fault, not everything in life is perfect.
Not everything turns out the way you planned.
In my 27th year I :
Still have no money in my savings account (re: none) ; I still don’t have a job that I love; I still have not lost all the baby(ies) weight yet (thank you very much); I am still no longer getting hit on by good looking men ; No, I still do not enjoy being Suzy Homemaker….
Yes, I have laughed; Yes, I have danced on a stage in a drunken stupor (holiday party); Yes I have cried; Yes, I have thrown food at my mother; Yes, I have kissed my children and grabbed their little fatty behinds;Yes, I have witnessed the kindness of strangers holding up two amazingly strong people who had just lost a child;Yes I have met gone with my gut; Yes I have enjoyed my family.
I am a strong woman. A woman who FINALLY knows her self worth. It only took 28 years.