Happy birthday to me :)

Every year, on September 9th, I look around and take stock of my life. Like, really look.

I’m not sure when this little birthday ritual started. I imagine it began back when I was in school. September overlaps with the start of a new academic year, which always carries the promise of new possibilities: new projects, new identities, new circumstances. As someone who literally just had to count out how many schools I attended on my fingers, my birthday has often represented a time of transition — and with that, a time to reflect. Who am I now? How far have I come? Where do I hope to go?

I’ve typically kept these reflections to myself. But today, sitting in my favorite coffee shop, I thought it might be nice to share some of this year’s reflections with you.

The past 365 days have perhaps been some of the most transformative of my life — and that’s saying a lot, for someone who makes a habit of cultivating existential life epiphanies. This time last year, I didn’t have this writing practice. I hadn’t launched my business. I cried about work at least once per week. I struggled regularly with jealousy and territorial-ness in my relationship. I was in an artistic rut, spending more time staring longingly at blank canvases than painting on them. I wasn’t unhappy. I was, by many standards, a joyful and well-adjusted person. But compared to now? I feel like I’m living a different life.

So…what changed? More accurately, what unlocked these changes for me?

I suspect answering that question thoroughly would require much more than this installment will allow — alas, my coffee is already getting cold. But I do want to acknowledge one very important answer to that question:

Things changed because I allowed myself to be seen by the people in my life. Truly and actually seen. And when they had something to say about what they saw, I took the time and listened.

You see, I’m aware of the privileges that bolster most every aspect of my life. I have resources, communities, and structures that support me. And for years, I thought that meant I wasn’t allowed to want something more. How could I possibly aspire for another career when the one I have is so lucrative? How dare I consider investing more in myself, when I already give myself so much?

These thoughts prevented me from sharing my aspirations with those around me. I was afraid of seeming ungrateful, or worse yet, entitled. It wasn’t until my trip to Japan in November of 2024 — when I had a proper existential meltdown in the bathtub — that I finally allowed myself to be honest about how I was feeling. I finally admitted, to myself and those I love, that I wanted something different. Something more.

Everything changed after that. Because it turns out: they wanted something more for me, too.

There’s plenty more to be said here, but we can save that for another time. Until then, I hope you take this as an invitation:

What are your aspirations — the ones you’re too afraid to speak aloud? The ones you hide from even yourself? Don’t you think it’s time to let those dreams come to light?

Let others see you. Let them see you want more. Let them tell you how deserving you are of it.