I’m 35 years old today.
My 20-year old self back then dreaded this day, and with reason.
I have strands of prematurely graying hair, slight wrinkling around the eyes, extra weight all over.
I wish I can say that I’ve achieved all that I want to at 35, but I haven’t.
However, when I woke up today, I felt oddly chipper and upbeat, more so than I felt when I turned 30 or 34. There’s a lightness in my heart. A different kind of happiness, more low-key and laid-back.
It’s like a solitary walk on a lazy day, or sitting on the shore watching the undulating waves, or the slow, soft tilting of the lips before it becomes a smile.
It’s a quiet happy.
Last year, I gifted my 34-year old self with a gadget I’ve long lusted after – a Macbook Pro. It was expensive, but I felt I deserved it. I still do. I’ve never regretted this gift.
Days earlier, I was going around the mall and jewelry shops scoping out what I wanted to gift myself with this year (I vowed not to buy a book as my birthday gift for myself this year).
But somehow, I didn’t find any gadget, accessory, clothing or bauble that struck my fancy. (Or those that did were way above my budget.)
They say the best presents are those can’t be wrapped.
I’d like to think that my gift to my 35-year old self is this strange, strange happy feeling.
Could there really be no better gift than the gift of age? (Although I may disagree with that when the time comes that the joints start aching.) I may not be sure about that, but one thing I’m positively sure about is that people greeting you on your birthday is already a gift in itself.
Family and loved ones – the people that really matter – sending you lovely thoughts and wishes on your birthday, even a Macbook Pro can’t beat that!