Birthday. Why not bornday?

If I had as crappy of a birthday as I had today when I was 16, 18, 22. . .I probably would have rolled up in a sad little soggy ball of tears and self-pity and waited for the masses to bestow upon me their most heartfelt sympathies that my perfect day wasn't glittering in shining gold; that the princess of the hour (that would have been me) had to deal with the real world and life on that day just like any other day, poor thing.

Alas, the adult (cough cough) version of me realizes that the world did not conspire to ruin my day because it's the day of my birth. I accept that the millions of tiny things that went wrong from the moment I woke up actually have zero connection to the occurrence today of the anniversary of my new presence here on earth. None of it is related, and because I know that, I know also how small and insignificant this day is, and therefore how truly small and insignificant I am. Sigh.

But I am not here to whine and complain, I promise. I'm here to say that I didn't let it take over. I not letting the fact that I didn't get to eat pie for breakfast crumple all hopes of a beautiful day. Or the awful fight I had with my friend spell grief and doom for the rest of the day. Because today, my friends, I am one year, or one day, or one moment wiser, depending on how you look at it. My newest lesson is that today truly is like any other day, and that just like any other day I embrace what it can teach me and send it on its way.

I do not feel 28 years old, nor 28 years young. I feel both wisdom beyond my years and a youthful innocence and exuberance that won't be squelched. I know I am both mature and womanly and yet very very childish. Another year tacked on and I still am not quite sure what I want to be when I grow up. I am still struggling with who I am and where I want to go. I am still a child of this earth, wondering if I'm doing things right. Funny how the same questions are in my mind today as on any other day. They're just attached to a new number.