Birthdays have always been a day I look forward to, just like everyone else on this planet. Unlike everyone else though, I like to go above and beyond to make sure my day is memorable. Just last year I went on a solo trip to Santa Monica, and the year before that I spent the day in London. Since I was a little girl, I’ve loved waking up on the morning of my birthday and always dreaded it coming to an end. For some reason this year though, I’m having trouble getting myself excited about turning another year older. My lack of enthusiasm has nothing to do with the a fear of getting older, or even a lack of plans. Honestly, my boyfriend has been working really hard to specially find presents only he would know I would love. No matter all the things I plan and all the talk of the perfect present, I can’t seem to crack more than a smirk at the thought of my birthday. And that numbness just kind of sucks. As I write this post it’s the Saturday before my birthday and I’m home alone with my cat Max. This Saturday isn’t unlike most Saturdays, actually it’s the same Saturday I’ve been having since moving to the city. Or should I say, the outskirts of the city. Moving to Washington DC was supposed to be this huge life changing transition, and while a lot has changed, it’s not how I planned it at all. Yes, I have grown up, having graduated college, moved across the country, worked on my masters and a full time job. But besides all those accomplishments my personal goals have sort of been pushed aside. Reality hit me when I realized I couldn’t afford to live in the city, leaving me to lease a place in Maryland. Yes it’s only a short metro ride from the city center but it just blows that I can’t just be in the middle of all the action. Working and going to school full time leaves me exhausted by Friday night, meaning I don’t want to go out and the thought of socializing with people I don’t know is exhausting. Not that I know many people, because that’s what I believe has me truly avoiding the thought of my birthday. I’ll be celebrating it alone. All my friends decided to stay in California, with only one or two moving to New York after graduation. Work and school consumed my life, so other than getting a boyfriend, friends just never really found themselves into my life. For someone who used to spend her time surrounded with people, it’s kind of scary to think that without my boyfriend I don’t know who I would go to Sunday brunch with. I suppose the reason I don’t want to face turning 23 is because I’m not 100% happy with what I’ve accomplished at 22. Sure I made a giant leap, finished half of my masters degree, finally adopted the cat I always wanted and fell in love, but I also forgot to make friends to celebrate all those accomplishments with. Soon enough I’ll be another year older, and I guess my wish for this year will be that I revert back to the old me that made friends while waiting in line, and finally have someone to sit at home with on a Saturday night and watch Friends reruns with.

Have any of you ever felt this way about an upcoming birthday? Any recommendations of ways to celebrate the big 23? Let me know in the comment below! 

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