Birthday.
As an aspiring unconventionalist, my birthday is almost always unhappy.
Yesterday, I turned 35. And even though this substack is all pink and soft, my birthday experience is usually a very bloody purple. I don’t know about you, but I just can’t seem to birthday right.
Last year, there was a crisis in the family. This year, there was a thing at work. It’s as if something in the ether conjures up circumstances designed to tarnish and disappoint.
Try as I might to be a big pants woman about it; it feels personal. Yearly, the universe and my subconscious (and maybe they are the same thing), make a deliberate point about my particular un-specialness. Talk about an ego beating.
Birthdays are sometimes rife for a personal audit. This year, I wrote. A lot. And so a friend who sees me made me a thing that had me stupefied. A physical, hardcover print of this Substack, featuring unvarnished, cheeky reviews from all my asshole friends. A core memory was made.
Here’s what it looks like:
It was a Birthday!
Happy Birthday, Uthara! What a great post. I love reading the blog. A friend shared it saying I write like you (which is a great compliment)
On birthdays - For some years, I pretended birthdays weren’t special and was then disappointed when they weren’t special. One thing I started doing 4 years back was plan my birthday. I take the day off, invite the people I love, take a trip or do something that makes me happy.
Its kindness like this that gives me hope for life:')
Happy birthday Uthara! Absolutelyy love this newsletter and genuinely look forward to it! May you have the nicest possible year ahead and get alll the love and happiness there is!
Lots of love, hugs and admiration
xoxo