I turned 33 today.
I woke up, had a solo breakfast at La Madeleine, and tonight I'll eat dinner with my mom at this fantastic Italian place in Montrose.
And that's it. No gigantic celebration. No "candid" shots of me in some far off country or city. None of that. Which is wild because usually I bust my ass, trying to create some memorable day so I can post it on social media and say something philosophical about life and how great the past year has been. But for some reason, I just don't feel like doing it anymore. It's fucking exhausting.
32 was a year of ups and downs. And that's what it's always going to be. I'll never have an up year where every day I was up. My goal is that the up days outweigh the down days but some days are meh and some days are really down. Trying to make it seem like everything is always sunshine and roses just feels fake to me now and I don't want to participate in that kind of ego inflation.
I'm proud of a lot of things I did this year. I have a long way to go in my mind but I'm constantly learning how to celebrate the small wins. And according to my best friend, 33 is my Jesus year. Which I had never heard of before she said it, but I absolutely love it.
Oh and here's a picture of me and Raelee at our favorite sushi spot. I don't think she remembered my birthday though. I just think she wanted some sushi & mochi and knew I would pay for it. :-)