I didn’t post anything yesterday, and you know what? That’s okay.
Unless of course you panicked and thought I had been hit by a bus, in which case I am sorry (but I did previously mention to give it 24 hours before panicking).
Yesterday was my “real” birthday, or as I’ve been told it’s called from friends in the fellowship, my “belly button birthday”.
This year it felt important that I treat myself to something that would help boost my confidence and self-esteem, so I spent the morning at the MAC store in Covent Garden. I am now less afraid of makeup and more prepared for the days where wearing some would be beneficial. More on that tomorrow.
I’ve extended the celebration by a day, because it’s a bank holiday here in the UK and so both Mrs. M and I wanted to spend more time together, just hanging out. I can’t speak for her, but I know I’ve definitely missed doing exactly this.
In fact, every day that I don’t have a drink, it becomes harder and harder to understand why I ever did it in the first place.
My brother sent me a birthday message that said something along the lines of “this was probably the best birthday you’ve had in awhile, right?”.
At first I felt a little defensive; I’ve had plenty of wonderful birthdays in the recent past. They probably all involved alcohol. Drinking hasn’t always been a problem.
I mean, he is my younger brother, so my natural reaction is to discount everything he says.
But I’m afraid he does actually have a point. I can’t actually remember my birthday last year. I don’t know what – if anything – I did to celebrate. In fact, I can’t really remember any recent birthday celebrations barring a surprise party Mrs. M arranged for me a few years ago.
I thought this might be because it’s not a day I tend to celebrate, but that’s not entirely true. I do want to celebrate, I’ve just never really felt like I’m somebody worth celebrating. I am too afraid of trying to organise a party for my birthday because I assume no one will come.
I can’t say my total lack of self-esteem is entirely due to excessive drinking, but I suspect it’s played a bigger part than what I’m aware of.
But this year really was different. Still no party, but I have built up a certain level of self-respect that isn’t okay with never putting an effort into my appearance. My confidence has grown enough that I am comfortable enough going ot the MAC store and saying “please help me, I have no idea what I’m doing here”. I was able to entertain the possibility that I can be attractive (with effort), and felt worthy enough to put that effort in.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything so positive that it’s almost a foreign experience, which is exactly why I celebrated this birthday doing something so completely unlike me.
Because I am no longer the old me.
And (sigh), YES…My brother was right: this was the best birthday I’ve had in awhile.
And who knows, maybe next year I’ll even organise a party.