New Bottega

My mum never forgets a birthday, my dad will take offense if you forget his, and my brother does a photoshoot every year. So I must have been raised to love birthdays.

But at some point, I stopped being excited about them. I cultivated this idea that birthdays aren’t that serious and “everyone” thinking about me at the same time is an unpleasant thing.

Thing is, it really can be overwhelming to have a lot of people reach out to me on the same day. I can’t tolerate unread messages, so my DMs just end up feeling like a todo list.

I love a quiet birthday, for sure. But in a bid to avoid attention, I often throw the baby with the bath water. Occasionally I forget that the most important thing about birthdays is pausing to celebrate myself.

That’s another 365 days around the sun. Congrats!

I’ve just moved to London and into a lovely flat. I set up a management company for my projects. I quit my job to take a 6-month sabbatical in August. I’m of good health and in a safe environment. I’m working out regularly, writing consistently and cooking better. I’m able to provide for myself and my people. I have love on tap.

None of this was promised, and none of it is assured. I’m grateful.

The new flat has a terrace, and I think I can make a beautiful garden here. There’s a Yucca tree in the corner and the walls are crawling with Ivy. I’m taking contributions, if you’d like to help: https://opemipo.craft.me/fOEuyYNosnaSCf

Happy birthday to me!