Its funny how the significance of birthdays change as we get older.
Initially it was something I looked forward to as a kid - with the cake and presents and party and everyone treating you like royalty...which kid wouldn't?! Back then it was a day of carefree joy and basically getting what you've wanted, tearing open gifts with abundant glee and tucking into as many chunks of cake as you'd want.
As I got into my twenties, I started dreading birthdays as I felt the only thing they highlighted was just how quickly our time here comes to pass. One moment, you're blowing out the candles to celebrate your 23rd year of existence and in the blink of an eye, you're celebrating your 24th.
I was more concerned about the superficial things then: how many friends I had compared to others, how to keep everyone pleased even if it made me unhappy, conforming to images and ideals of others and trampling on my own, holding aloft standards I would never meet and beating myself up for that. Looking back, it was really no wonder that I was unhappy and sullen almost all the time. Joy and merriment seemed to come only as fleeting moments that would soon be followed by prolonged bouts of unhappiness.
But as I cut into the cake (a damn yummy one too!) that celebrated my 27th year, there was a strange, unrecognizable feeling that was coursing through me. For the first time in a pretty long while, I was content. For the first time in a long while, I wasn't dreading anything.
Maybe it's something that comes with age, or maybe maturity just caught onto me later than others.
Over the past couple of months, it feels like invisible hands have been pulling the wool off my eyes in bits and pieces, exposing the world to me in a much different light than before; making me see the things and people I should be treasuring, the things I should be doing for myself and showing me that instead of constantly envying others, I had gifts of my own that I should be proud of and things to treasure. Learning that smiles and compliments are not always backed with good intentions.
I realised that many a times, behind the seemingly perfect lives others seemed to have, there would be things that they wished they had. Things that I had, but wasn't grateful for because I was busy chasing something else.
In the beginning, this filled me with regret. Regret that I couldn't go back in time to re-live some phases of my life and re-do things with the new knowledge I had. Regret that I was such a fool to get played as a pawn, regret that I lost people I should have cherished and instead cherished those I should have seen through, regret that so much of my prime was spent under the heels of others, yearning and wishing I was someone else.
It does feel like a burden has been lifted somewhat now. Remnants of it still weigh heavily in certain places, but for the most part, it seems to be gone - hopefully for good. Baby steps for now.There's still a ways to go.
Happy birthday.