A few weeks ago, I began writing a love letter to myself for today, my 34th birthday. I really wanted to kick off my love letters section already, but also write something for myself.
I wanted to write something deep and meaningful, but I was overthinking it (as I usually do) and saved the draft. Skimming it now though made me change my mind; Instead, I am writing fresh words to give myself a clean slate.
As a little girl, the story of the rabbit and the turtle fascinated me. I was always more of a turtle who strived to be a rabbit. Looking back now, I was surrounded by many rabbits and I desperately wanted to rope myself with that group to reach similar achievements at the same time. I think I pressured myself too much and it took away the magic and spark I had. Today, on my birthday, I now realize I have always been a turtle and there’s nothing wrong with that. I now see that I have different achievements from others, but they are significant to me and that’s all that matters.
For my 34th birthday, I am more than ever grateful for what I have and who I have. I spent the last few years searching for the meaning and feeling of gratitude and what to be grateful for, but today I feel it in my bones. I have a beautiful little family that loves my good and bad, I have a small group of friends with whom I can be genuine with and love to uplift, I have role models who offer their support, and I have a fulfilling love for myself again.
In plain words: I have a happy and loving home. I have a beautiful home, and I have privacy in and outside of my house I let myself get lost in. The people in my life are quality, and above all, I accept and love myself in good and bad. I am enough.