June Seventh


It's the night before my birthday.

My birthday has always been a big deal - - I was my mom's miracle daughter, was born on my Grandfather's birthday, and my family doesn't really do holidays, so birthdays were IT. I've always loved my birthday; I love attention, I love the idea of having day all about me. However, from 25-28 it didn't feel the same. My 25th birthday was absolutely one of the saddest days of my life. 26, 27, and 28 were much better days, but there always a bit of hollow hidden beneath my happiness. Birthdays were reminders that time wasn't stopping and all of the ways I've fallen short of where I thought I'd be by now. On the night before my 29th birthday, I can say that I'm looking forward to tomorrow in a way that I haven't in years. My 20s are ending. I remember my 19th birthday like it was yesterday. I spent the night in West Hollywood, driving around with my best friend listening to Marilyn Manson until the sun came up. That naive, weird, girl has grown into a woman that she wouldn't believe was her if they met. The past 10 years have been a wild ride. 25-28 were the most difficult years I've ever lived through. As I think about what 29 and my 30s will bring; I realize I haven't fallen short, I just took a necessary detour along the way.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to dance my ass off while my favorite DJ spins a night of only Prince songs in Hollywood and wait for midnight.