Another Year Around the Sun (and yes i’m still messy)

Some people celebrate their birthdays with a bang: champagne, sparkles, a rented house in the desert. Others hide under their weighted blankets, binge-watch trash TV, and pretend time doesn’t exist.

Me? I fall somewhere in the middle. A little espresso martini, a lot of overthinking.

Because for me, birthdays aren't just a party — they’re a checkpoint. A moment to pause (you know I was gonna say it), breathe, and pivot. It’s the one day a year where I give myself full permission to ask the big questions. Not the “Where should I brunch?” kind of questions (although very important), but more like:

• How have I grown this year?

• What old stories am I still believing about myself?

• Where does my inner child need a hug — or maybe a juice box and a nap?

Yep. We’re going there. Welcome to my annual birthday meltdown/inventory/self-hug ritual.

Aging Is Weird (But Also Beautiful)

There’s something funny about birthdays as a millennial. We were raised to believe we’d have it all figured out by now — the stable job, the fulfilling relationship, the ability to fold a fitted sheet. (Still not there.)

But aging — real, messy, intentional aging — isn’t about checking off boxes. It’s about getting closer to yourself. And part of that work means checking in with the little version of you who’s still hanging out in your psyche, quietly tugging at your sleeve, asking if you remember them.

Your inner child.

If you're unfamiliar, your inner child is that core part of you shaped by early experiences — both the magical and the not-so-magical. They carry the joys, fears, wounds, and beliefs that still color your adult life. And spoiler alert: they have opinions.

Healing the Inner Child: Birthday Edition

Each year I try to think: what would little-me be proud of? What would she roll her eyes at? Where would she say, “Hey, I still don’t feel safe doing that — can we slow down?”

This year, she told me she missed drawing with markers for no reason. She said I need to stop over-apologizing for things that aren’t my fault. She asked if we could take a break from trying to “improve” and just be for a while. (She’s wise. And a little sassy.)

Inner child healing isn’t about reparenting yourself perfectly. It’s about pausing (yep), breathing (double yep), and pivoting (you knew it was coming) when old survival strategies no longer serve you. It’s saying, “Hey, I see you. I’m listening now.”

So every year when my birthday rolls around, I try to give myself a gift that my inner child actually wants. Sometimes it’s rest. Sometimes it’s permission to mess up. Sometimes it’s a glitter pen.

Not a Glow-Up — A Slow-Up

We live in a culture obsessed with the “glow-up” — the dramatic transformation, the before-and-after photos, the 30 under 30 lists that make you question all your life choices while you eat cake out of the pan.

But what if instead of glowing up, we slowed down?

What if we measured growth by how much more patient we are with ourselves? How willing are we to stay present, even when it’s uncomfortable? How often do we treat ourselves like someone we actually like?

Every birthday is a chance to take stock. Not in a judgmental way, but in a loving, checking-in-on-your-own-heart kind of way.

So ask yourself:

• What am I proud of this year?

• What lesson kicked my butt but ultimately helped me grow?

• What would 8-year-old me say about the life I’ve created?

And maybe: what does she still need?

Final Thoughts from One Mess to Another

I am someone who’s done a lot of feeling, flailing, and figuring it out.

So if you’re reading this and also feeling the weird mix of joy, grief, and reflection that comes with another birthday, just know: it’s okay to feel it all.

Celebrate the growth. Mourn what didn’t happen. Toast to your resilience. Hug your inner child. And if it all gets too overwhelming?

You know what to do.

Pause. Breathe. Pivot. And then get some cake!