I had a rough relationship with my birthday for a good decade.
All through my twenties, it seemed like something happened right on or around my birthday that was less than celebratory.
On my 25th birthday, I threw a party and literally no one showed up.
On my 27th, I was in the emergency room for a ruptured ovarian cyst.
But on the day before my thirtieth birthday, I laid on the bathroom floor at my sister's house, my head in her lap, drinking tequila out of the bottle and smoking weed out of a bowl shaped like a glass slipper, weeping uncontrollably. (Note to reader: I don't recommend adding tequila and marijuana to an already emotionally charged situation. But we live and we learn, right?)
After shoving a towel in the crack in the door, turning the fan on and lighting candles to conceal the smell from her sleeping husband, my sister just sat quietly and let me cry, rubbing my forehead and passing me tissues.
We've always joked that I am the emotional one of the family and she is the logical one. (Although, I think she was feeling much stronger than she was letting on at the moment.)
This was the beginning of the end of my marriage.
And definitely not the last time I would find myself weeping on the floor of one of my sibling's houses.
Fast forward three years, and I am approaching my 33rd birthday.
33 is magical. It's the Jesus year.
And I can feel some goodness swirling around this birthday. I can feel some momentum building. I know some good shit is coming.
I am manifesting the life of my dreams. I am literally in the process of creating my best life. It may not seem like that from the outside, but thats the funny thing about manifestation. It's sneaky.
From the outside, I live in my brother's extra room and work at a bar part time. I am paying off a pretty intense amount of debt. I am driving a car thats been in a wreck and the door is all f'ed up. I am in an "odds-stacked-against-us-but-we-don't-care" loooooong distance relationship. I have no idea how I am going to pay for what I am planning for the rest of this year.
From the outside, this doesn't look like much of a life that one would manifest.
But just you wait. I'm not even gonna tell you what I am cooking. You'll just have to follow the journey.
One of the reasons I know there is good stuff coming is because I have a ridiculous, abnormal and outstanding amount of trust. Trust in God, and trust in myself.
The other reason, is because I have been doing work.
I have been working on myself, my patterns, my habits, my view of the world and of myself, my discipline, my bravery, my uncomfortableness. I have been putting in the work. Because nothing is going to change unless you do the work.
I did the work with no guidance, with no help and with no understanding or knowledge of what I was actually doing. I wonder how different my story would be if I had taken initiative to heal my heart and fix my life before it fucking fell apart at my feet that night in the bathroom.
I encourage you to start looking at some of your shit, man. I encourage you to bravely, courageously, and nakedly peer into the parts of your life that you have been avoiding or hiding from or pretending is not there.
Heal your heart and fix your life before it implodes before you.
Today, I am so grateful to my ex and for every single tear I wept over the end of our marriage. I am so grateful for how incredibly difficult this road has been.
I am a fucking warrior because of it.
A warrior of love. A warrior of hope.
And I am going to help a lot of women become warriors as well.
Just wait and see.
(If you're ready to look at your stuff and start taking steps toward healing your heart, I would be honored if you would consider trying my 7-Day Journaling Projects. I created them for people to start dialoging with themselves about stuff in their life that needs their attention and their love.)
This was last year on my birthday. This was the best birthday I had had in over a decade.
This year will be even better.