Birthday Confessions

August 29^th ushered in another year of life for me, and I’m not afraid to admit that I see my body changing.  When I turned 25, I noticed that my body’s natural lean was disappearing, and that the only way to make it reappear was to torture my body with consistent gym workouts.  Since then I have watched black hairs turn grey, (sometimes overnight), noticed small lines around my mouth, and observed teeny tiny black marks plop themselves on my face, foreshadowing where moles will emerge.

But I’m not upset about any of it.  It’s a sign that I’m growing up, proof that my body is maturing, just like the rest of me.  It suggests that perhaps a little bit of wisdom resides in my no-longer-twenty-one-year-old body.  What I’m upset with is what I didn’t know about aging; I’m upset about all of the stuff that people didn’t tell me.

I didn’t know that grey hair can come as early as your mid-to-late twenties…until it happened to me.  Turns out that most people either dye their hair or get cellophanes to cover these hairs, which is what I did this year for the first time. (The TV camera doesn’t like grey on people who aren’t “old.”)  And it was only a few years ago that someone told me that some women become slightly incontinent after birthing children.  As the older women in my life experience menopause, I’m learning that hot flashes aren’t the only symptoms; Thinning hair and fatigue are too.

Last week, while typing away on my laptop, I caught a few minutes of ABC’s The View.  In the middle of the show, Whoopi Goldberg laughed and then said, “Whew!  I just had a hot flash. My underwear are drenched!”  I laughed and appreciated Whoopi’s honesty.  Who says stuff like that?  And on TV?

As I mature in age, especially as a woman who works in entertainment, I wanna appreciate all of the changes and be honest about them, so that the women who come after me can embrace these changes when they experience them, and tell themselves, “Happy Birthday, Girl!  You’ve earned every year.”

Birthday Fruit

Today marks the day of my birth--the day that God summoned me, leaving my mother with no choice but to push me out. Today is also the day that Michael Jackson was born.  (He would have been 53 today.)


It's interesting to share a birthday with a legend.  You feel like it's your special day, but the world feels like it's that legend's special day.  All day long the world celebrates them, while in your world, your mom and five closest friends celebrate you.  


But all jokes aside, today made me wonder what the world will celebrate about me when I am gone.  Will people remember my funny personality? My humanitarian work? My creative art?  The masses may never know me the way that they did Michael, but what will those who know me say about me? 


Seeing how the world celebrated a legend, even in his death, made me more determined to have a legendary life, even if it's only in front of six people.  


My prayer for this upcoming year is that I will have a prolific impact on however many people I come into contact with.

A Celebration of Numbers

This weekend, I spent three days with my closest thirty-one relatives.  Cousins, siblings, aunts, and uncles gathered to celebrate my Grandma Ruby's 70th Birthday.

We congregated around eight round tables in one banquet hall.

We consumed nearly sixty chicken breasts and dined on seven cheesecakes drizzled with caramel sauce.

We played one game (which took forty minutes).

We listened to several tributes (during which a dozen people cried).

We relived countless memories and reveled* in the one we were creating in the moment.

We prayed.  Four times.

My aunt clanked her fork against her glass five times to quiet us down.

My grandma modeled down the imaginary runway once, showing off her green pants suit, worn in honor of her St. Patrick's Day Birthday.

We watched my two cousins, Jaylen and Naya, perform a magic show.  Four times. (The fourth time was for YouTube.)  

We argued. About dogs, about love, and about loving dogs.  

We laughed 'til we bent over in laughter.

It was a once in a lifetime gathering.

Birthday Wishes

This year my birthday felt different.  It felt different because I’m different.  I’m more sure of where I’m going, more confident of what’s deposited in me.  I linger neither on the past nor daydream about the future.  Instead, I live each day with purpose. I choose to do the things that make me happy—reading, thinking, listening to music, even if they bore other people. I surround myself with those whose beings bring me joy – good friends and family.  I make decisions based on not just what I want for today, but for what I want for my life. I try to choose wisely because I will never get today back.  And tomorrow will be over in another twenty-four.  I focus not on what I can’t do, but choose to embrace all that I can do. And if I can’t, why not learn how? 

I have yet to create my bucket list, but I’m beginning to think about what I’ll put on it once I do.  Yes, we only get one life.  I am making the most of it.  Happy Birthday to me.