Birthday thoughts

A friend of mine posted on my facebook page, a week ago, a happy birthday message saying she was posting ahead of time, so as to not add to the pain of reminding me it's my birthday. You see, I used to hate my birthday. *Hate it.*

But that's because I wasn't doing what I wanted. I was unhappy with my life, and every year that passed was only a reminder that I was wasting time, burning oxygen in a life without purpose. And that was painful. 

I actually remember a birthday where I had a party and finished crying on the couch on the shoulder of another friend, while the party went on around me. True story. Said friend might even ve reading this. 

Today finds me in a good place. I just scored a very expensive med book for a third of the price, and that makes me happy. I'm at Starbucks drinking a delicious mocha and they got my name right. I am doing what I have always known in my bones that I wanted to do. I have a beautiful apartment, a lot of close, good friends, people I love both near and far, and I am happy. 

Age doesn't matter. It's a number. What matters is that you are doing what you want, what gives purpose and meaning to your life. And as I've read not too long ago,

"Don't begrudge growing old. It is a privilege denied to many."