41 and Done?

My birthday was the other day!

Over the years, I have had boatloads of emotions surrounding my birthday. Once I turned 30, I began to have a lot of anxiety around getting older. I would also get sad if people didn't reach out to me with birthday wishes, although such is always the case with holiday babies. People get so busy during the Christmas season that we are often forgotten. This was not the case for my birthday this go 'round. Tiesh called and sang me the birthday song and bought me lunch. Bells dropped off flowers and homemade cookies. Lisha got me a soap and perfume set. My aunty got me a cake and ice cream. People called me and sent me well-wishes on social media. I ended the day feeling really loved. Yet, one thing that I noticed is that I wasn't having my usual sadness about not bringing in my birthday with a boyfriend. I really didn't think about it until towards the end of the day, and even then I didn't care. I'd had a good day, and considered my not allowing my birthday to revolve around not being partnered to be a sign of growth. This morning I reconsidered this. Was it a sign of growth or a bigger and more telling sign that I have given up?

Since the inception of Facebook and any other site where you can upload pictures, I have been tortured by fancy pics of my friends out on the town and dressed to the nines with their boyfriends on their birthdays. I have been so jealous and wanted to know what it was like for someone with a romantic interest in me to do special things for me on my special day. I generally have taken my birthday into my own hands. In my 20s, I would throw myself parties because I wanted them and knew that no one was going to surprise me with one. There was no guy in my life going behind my back to make arrangements and inform friends of secret plans. The birthdays of my 30s were filled with free trips to the aquarium and tears. Last year, I was healing from an injury, so this year it was nice to have a fun, stress-free birthday. However, not worrying about not having a man for once has me wondering if I am officially entering into my cat lady era. I am either maturing and realizing that I am loved beyond my desire to have someone in my life, or I am deciding that I will always be alone and to just move past it. If my Googling of knitting classes is a telltale sign, I will have to go with the last choice. 

When I think about the time I have spent bellyaching over not having a man, I am truly embarrassed. I could have used that time to start a business or, at the very least, get some great sleep. For this last birthday, I just didn't have a spirit of bellyacheness on me. I didn't feel over it, I just felt at peace. 

I am choosing to believe that I am merely experiencing the peace before partnership. And even with that being said, I'm not afraid to break out my knitting kit at any time. If wisdom comes with age, allow me to put on my wisdom wig. This birthday showed me what I have always known: I am truly cared for. I will be okay. 

Qualities

My nephew is 7. It's interesting that I'm not his mom, but at times, when I'm interacting with him, I feel like I am dealing with a male, child version of myself. He is a sensitive kid, full of emotions. He cares too much about what his peers think. He's stubborn. These were not qualities that suited me well when I was a kid. I feel that they actually made me a target which I guess still stands true because he sometimes deals with bullies on the school bus, just as I did. 

I can't stand bullies, but I often wonder what my childhood would have been like if I was more gangsta and had more confidence. I could have gone on to be the next Oprah or Wendy Williams. Even now, I deal with second guessing myself, which I feel is rooted from when I was a kid. I remember times when I thought I looked pretty, a mean kid would tell me I didn't, and my whole day would crumble. My moods were dependent on how I was received. I don't want that experience for my nephew. 

Remember when they used to talk about "designer babies"? These were babies where the parents could choose the physical aspects they wanted their kids to have somehow through tampering with DNA. For the most part, people were against the idea. I think it would be cool if we could choose the other qualities we wanted our kids to have. I would have hounded my sister to make sure my nephew didn't have my qualities. I'd tell her to make sure they sprinkled some tough skin and bravery in the baby juice, because these are things I lacked that I am still trying to obtain. 

Even so, I still find that I bask in the sweet, childlike nature of my nephew. I just want him to be able to kick a$$ and take names when need be in life. As I said, I want him to be brave. I don't want him to have my qualities.