It's my birthday & I'll cry if I want to

Today was my 23rd birthday. Old and current friends reached out on social media and via text to wish me a happy birthday. I got my free birthday Starbucks latte. I went to dinner with friends. My parents had cupcakes when I got home. I am healthy. I have a job. I have a loving family. I have a car that runs. I have access to nutritious food. I have a warm home and roof over my head. Summed up: I am extremely blessed. There is nothing missing from my life that I truly need for survival. From the outside looking in, my life is happy, neat and seemly effortless.

What I have come to realize is that, while my life is very blessed and I thank the Lord every day for all He has given me, I am making myself unhappy. I don't want to say that I am a people pleaser--I have worked very hard over the past four years to take into consideration the expectations of others while first and foremost staying true to myself--but I am overly agreeable. I don't want anyone to go out of their way on my account. Today, however, on my birthday, I expected... more. Perhaps this was too high of an expectation, but I imagined the day feeling different, special, mine.

What I have come to realize over the past few days is that I will go out of my way to make a friend or family member's birthday special. I will build it up for them, tell their peers, bake them their favorite dessert and wrap a gift. (Ok, I really like birthdays.) I think that I build up my own birthday as well, except I don't tell my peers or try to make people feel guilty if they forgot. There is no Megan running around on my birthday to make me feel special. It stinks and makes me a cross between mad and sad.

Once that mad/sad emotion settles in, I get even more upset for being mad. I feel guilty and self-centered. I try not to want to be the center of attention. Normally, I don't want to be the center of attention. Just one day a year though, I want to be the person that people seek out, the person that people go out of their way for to celebrate.

I feel convicted for even writing this, but I needed to get it out. Crying a few times and fighting back tears on your birthday, isn't the best way to celebrate what a wonderful year I had had, all that I had accomplished and all that I had experienced. I am inconceivably blessed. Beyond words, I am blessed. My parents, brother and sister-in-law, friends and extended family are such a strong support system. I'm not sure if my expectations are just too high or if the stress of other circumstances in my life are making me crack. I have learned to go with the flow and not let petty things bother me, but I also need to learn when and how to voice my anguish. I brush things off and tell people "not to worry," yet I am breaking inside. The heaviness from my hurt drowns me. Even as a swimmer in high school, I am terrified of drowning. Now the challenge is to learn how to swim in this and not let my unvoiced expectations rule situations. Here's to learning something new in the next year!

What wonders time can bring forth

I think the easiest and most direct thing to call it is anger. For so many years, as long as I can remember, I was angry. It took on different forms--frustration, annoyance, impatient--but it still seemed to underlie the majority of my emotions.

Even when I was happy, I was jealous; when I was joyous, I was disheartened; when I was seemingly at peace, I was uneasy. 

I searched for years for things that would fill me up, to make me happy and joyous and at peace. I would make a new friend, get a good grade, learn something new and, for awhile, I felt fulfilled. It was a fleeting sensation and never lasted. So I dedicated myself to more organizations, interviewed for bigger and better committee boards and internships and befriended more people. It was all consuming and I was good at it. I'd get every position on every board I applied to. I was turning down offers. I was in demand. Yet, I spent more time trying to find things to help me feel happy than I spent actually celebrating life. 

I'm not sure when it happened, when it finally clicked. Perhaps two years ago, maybe more recently, but I finally realized that I was running. I was running from myself, from taking a moment to pause and look internally at who I was, who I was becoming and who I wanted to be. This realization was honestly more terrifying than actually sitting down to figure myself out. I was living blindly. I had nowhere else to run, no other pages to turn. 

I tried to sit down, but couldn't turn off my mind. It was constantly running, looking for the next thing to add and consequently mark off my various to-do lists. Again, I don't know if I can pin down the time or place when I was finally able to just stop, but it just happened. I started saying no to things that I wasn't passionate about. I started doing things "just because." I stopped getting and posting on Facebook so much. I picked up my phone and dialed a friend's number instead of just texting. I started investing my time in the things that matter to me, instead of the things that will set me apart on my resume.

Much of this change started with my new bible study, although that is a topic for another time. The thing is, I realized that this time, right now, matters. I don't get it back. I hated myself for being single, but realized that I won't be on my own and able to do my own thing forever. I hated myself for working freelance (although not for lack of trying to find a full-time position), but realized that this experience has taught me what I don't want in a job and where my professional strengths and passions lie.

All of it. Every smile, encounter, moment, every day is shaping me. When all is said and done, I want to recognize the shape I am molded into. I want to like what I see. So while I also hit the gym so I like what I see in the mirror, I have to hit the books (aka The Bible) and spend some time alone with Him. Time. He has a plan. Patience and faith in His timing has become my constant prayer and it's a good one.