It’s My Birthday — And Here’s the Truth About Why This One Feels Different

I’ve never been a big birthday girl.
Not because of the cake or the candles, but because birthdays reveal something quietly vulnerable: how people see you — or how they think they see you. And when you’re someone who often feels misunderstood, that can hit differently.

Birthdays become a kind of mirror.
Sometimes you recognize the reflection.
Sometimes you don’t.

But this past year — 42 — felt different. Maybe it’s the Jackie Robinson energy. Maybe it’s the full-circle feeling. Or maybe it’s because I’ve spent the past twelve months doing the hardest, most necessary work of my life.

This year, I asked myself to do hard work.

The real internal work.
Identity work.

Not “who am I to others?”
But “who am I to myself?”

I peeled back old narratives. I examined the roles I’ve played versus the person I actually am. I explored my connections — the ones that nourish, the ones that drain, and the ones I outgrew quietly but necessarily.

And all of that led me into the lifelong search for belonging.

Not fitting in.
Not performing.
Not trying to be small enough to be accepted.

But true belonging — the kind you feel in your body, your breath, your decisions.

I’m not there yet.

But I like goals.
I like stretching.
I like becoming.

I’m proud that I’m trying. I’m proud that I’m learning. I’m proud that I’m willing to explore the parts of myself I used to avoid because they felt too tender.

This year, I really stood up for myself.
I promoted myself.
I asked for what I wanted instead of hoping someone would guess.
I held boundaries like they were oxygen.
I redefined friendships and relationships with more maturity and more honesty than ever before.

I stopped shrinking.
I stopped explaining.
I stopped performing in rooms that weren’t built for me.

So today, on my birthday, I’m not wishing.

I’m acknowledging.
Honoring.
Naming the work I’ve done — and the work I’m still doing.

I have miles to go in the belonging world.
But for the first time, I believe I deserve to get there.

And if you’re reading this, I hope you give yourself the same permission: to explore, to grow, to try again, to push yourself into the person you know you’re capable of being.

Here’s to 43.
Here’s to growth.
Here’s to identity, connection, and the journey toward belonging.
Here’s to the woman I’ve become — and the one I’m still becoming.