It's My Party, and I'll Cry if I Want To!

Well, folks. It happened. I had another birthday. Really this birthday isn't that significant. I am not "that old." It's not a special milestone or anything. The only thing even slightly significant is that it is on a Sunday. The last birthday I remember having on a Sunday was my sixteenth. Actually, as I looked to double check this fact, I noticed the most recent birthday I had on a Sunday was my twenty-second. Kaylee was just about to turn one. I really don't remember anything from that day, but I was probably at my parent's house visiting for Christmas.... Back to my memory that stands out.... I was turning sixteen. I had hoped for something, I don't really know what. But when your birthday is during Christmas, and on a Sunday, it's just different. I used to think it was bad, now I just think it's different. Hmm. Anyway... I had just received a new dress. It had a dark blue background with light blue daisies all over it and a bit of lace at the neckline. I had also been given a string of pearls (not real), which I decided to wear. I walked the halls of the church feeling disappointed. Nobody remembered my birthday, and I remember feeling super awkward in that dress. Like I was trying to be grown up, but still a little girl. Fast forward to today.... We were at my parent's house visiting. They have early church. I have two children. We stayed up way too late. Bad start. We were thirty minutes late for church. My stress level was already at breaking point before ten o'clock. Not the best start to the day. It was just another day, ya know? The evening was wonderful, though. My family was able to congregate and drive my sister up the wall. That is always nice. I very much enjoyed seeing all my family, especially the new baby!, and eating a yummy dinner from mom and I received some super thoughtful gifts. I felt very spoiled. But as I drove home, the sadness almost overcame me. I finally reached the point where I feel old. Technically I am still pretty young, but I don't feel young anymore. I quit keeping track of my age when I turned twenty. By then I was dating Louis and pretty sure we were going to be getting married. Nobody cares how old you are after that, except at the DMV, and they can just calculate it. Well, somebody decided that everyone should be reminded of how old they really are. Despite this, I have battled to keep my age a mystery, if only to myself! I had it in my mind that I was still twenty, and so I acted young. Then at twenty-five, I didn't mind that age, so I took it on.... I haven't yet reached thirty, but I'm past twenty-five. I don't like my age this year, and worse than that, I can't trick myself into denying what age I really am. Perhaps it's because I pictured myself at a different place or station in life, perhaps it is the unfulfilled dreams, perhaps it's fear of the future.... The only thing I can gather for certain is that my birthdays have always brought a touch of sadness. I think this is mostly because I look back over the year and realize that I am still the same person. The "big changes" I had always planned to make never seemed to actually take place. Unfortunately this isn't the most positive of feelings. I always wish I were different in one way or another; kinder, more fit, patient, pretty, stylish, educated, wealthy, loving, etc. Maybe my problem isn't so much in what I'm not, but in overlooking what I am. I think too often we discount what we are, because we think we should be something else or somebody else. For example.... I really struggled with this ward when I first moved here. It was just too different than the other wards I'd lived in. I couldn't really stand the differences. I looked at them as "wrong." The problem deepened when I was given my "impossible" calling. Week after week I struggled to implement changes that I thought would "solve the problem." Finally one week in our presidency meeting after we each had expressed some frustration with "our situation" my wise and loving counselor said, "Maybe we should quit trying to change everything to look the way we think it should. Perhaps we need to just accept that it is what it is and work with it." It was a revolutionary idea! We tried it and in no time at all we found ourselves loving our ward, feeling so close to the sisters in our ward, having fun, remembering names, finding tasks being completed that used to seem impossible. As we discussed this months later I said to my counselors, "I feel like the ward has transformed. I guess it's always been this way, it was just me and my attitude that changed." Thank goodness we can change our outlooks and attitudes! Hopefully I can do that with myself. I hope next year on my birthday to look back over the year and rather than beating myself up for all the mistakes, take what my life was for the year and find the good. Then take that good and build on it for another year. and another and another. I think it's possible, I hope it's possible. It sure would be a nice change!!! Sniff. Thanks for the cry. I feel a lot better.