happy birthday to myself

I'll have turned thirty-eight by the time I finish this post.

I have a running joke with the girls leading up to their birthdays. I say I'm not going to let them turn six, or eight, or whatever the number is. I tell them in no uncertain terms that I like them just the way they are and I don't want them to grow a second older. So no birthday, I say. They giggle and pretend to complain. It's a good gag, a nice routine. We all smile.

And I smile especially because I know how much I mean it. I really don't want them to grow any older, I really do love them just the way they are. I know how terribly quickly their few years have gone by, and I just want to grab them and hold them still for a second and look at them.

And then I chuckle to myself because I know how much I don't mean it. I can't wait to see them grow up, to see them become themselves. I think that will be the most amazing thing. I like them so much now... how can I not just carry on liking them more and more! I'm pretty sure that's how it's going to go.

I'm heading to forty, the halfway mark. Is it all down hill from there? If it is I think that will be a good thing, because I can tell you that it's been mostly uphill to get here. That one year old birthday girl being fed ice-cream by her auntie, she has no idea. And neither does any one else in her vicinity. No one could have imagined how complicated things were going to get. And stay. I've spent my whole life looking around and feeling like everyone else had it easier, or happier, or more normal. Until now.

The last few years I've been chipping away at myself. Scraping at the layers I'd wrapped so tightly. It was laborious, seemingly without end. At times I wondered if there was anything underneath after all.

 But there was, of course. There was me. And there were several points on the way where I saw myself. One when I started this blog. Another when I changed my name. Another as I understood why I had always felt so broken. Another as I negotiated my way through tricky days in our marriage. Spiritual direction was the vehicle for illumination and insight, time after time. I celebrated my crazy family and began to understand why chaos is all too familiar to me. I didn't give up on that book. I finally made peace with the girls learning at home. And I deconstructed whole worlds of belief. These moments were windows that came and went. Some days were dark and grey. Then there were the days I looked straight into my own eyes. Like I'm doing right now.

Going to Cambodia was incredible. I knew I'd have an amazing time but I didn't realise how momentous it would be. Something happened over there, far away from everything that was life as I knew it. Something happened to me. I left with a small suitcase, and I came back with myself. My very own birthday present.