On being 33

I recently celebrated my 33rd birthday and although I don’t really measure my life in year counts, this time around I felt something slightly different. In a weird way, I sort of feel like I’m halfway through life, I kinda feel like I’ve seen and experienced plenty of things that allow me to better understand the world. I feel old enough, mature enough, womanly enough, friendly enough and wholeheartedly enough. Bottom line, I feel enough.

At 33 I don’t seek to impress myself and others, I don’t seek to please others or raise myself to be worthy of their friendship or love. At 33, I am fierce and protective like a lioness, I am strong and forgiving, I am positive and ambitious. At 33, I believe that my life belongs to me and I assume my decisions. At 33, I am kinder to myself.

The highlight of turning 33 was to hear my little boy wish me “Bonne anniversaire, maman” and to celebrate another year together with my husband. I keep that moment close to my heart and each time I recall it, my body feels warmer, my heart is tingling and my lips smile uncontrollably.

Happy birthday to me! Thank you Universe for blessing my life in such wonderful ways.



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