twenty-six is crazy
a new kind of birthday
Last week I turned 26 (so wild)
For the last couple of birthdays, I’ve gone through the same mental cycle. A couple of weeks before I contract the birthday blues, have super intense reflections, worry about who would and wouldn’t show up, obsess about every detail, and replay the mistakes and missed opportunities for that year. Eventually, everything works out, I’m happy and I bring in the new year however I see fit. Rinse and repeat.
But this year was different. The cycle felt heavier, probably because 25 was a whirlwind of emotions and challenges. It was a year filled with self-doubt, indecisiveness, and uncertainty. Now plenty of great things happened, don’t get me wrong, but mentally, I was at war with a version of myself I could never quite catch up to. And just when I thought I could catch my breath, life kept throwing more at me. It was like the universe crammed 10 chapters’ worth of lessons into the final pages of my 25th year.
As my birthday approached, the familiar blues intensified. I couldn’t stop reflecting on everything that had happened—every regret, every what-if, every path not taken. I thought about the people I’d lost, the opportunities I’d missed, and the guilt I carried for not doing better. It was exhausting.
At first, I thought this was normal. Social media is full of people sharing their birthday anxieties about planning or asking people to celebrate with them. But then I told my therapist, and her reaction surprised me. She couldn’t understand why so much grief and chaos surrounded what should be a joyful day.
I tried to explain. Birthdays are amazing—I love my birthday! It’s a national holiday in my world, celebrated for at least three weeks. But for me, they’ve always come with intense introspection. It’s like opening a shaken can of soda: gratitude, anger, grief, and excitement all bubble up and collide.
My therapist listened and then asked, “What would happen if you just let go and enjoyed your birthday without all of that?” I didn’t have an answer. Honestly, I didn’t even think that was an option. I’d been conditioned to believe that celebrations had to come with a little pain and sacrifice. But the idea intrigued me.
So this year, inspired by my therapist and a devotional I’d been reading, I decided to try something new. This year, I let go of guilt, control, and the need for perfection. I didn’t plan anything. I took the entire week off work and just went with the flow. (For context: I am not a “flow” kind of girl, so this was uncharted territory.)
Instead of obsessing over the past or future, I focused on the present. I spent hours in the pottery studio, ate an obscene amount of delicious food, and did whatever my heart desired. I prioritized self-care, listened to my body, and let myself simply be.
By the end of my birthday week, I felt lighter - like the weight of all the birthdays prior finally lifted. For the first time in a while, I felt peace. I woke up knowing that despite all of the things that could've been, all the mistakes I made, I’m still here. Still happy, grateful, and motivated to see what the next chapter holds.
I realized my grief didn’t consume me, my regrets no longer haunt me, and there were no unanswered questions or cliffhangers. Knowing that my character isn't done developing, that the world is at my feet. Knowing that no matter what, I’ll be okay. I felt my inner child smile and the ghosts of my past finally laid to rest.
For years, I believed birthdays had to be perfect—filled with plans, people, and celebrations. Letting go of that expectation felt like shedding old skin that no longer fit who I was becoming.
As I step into 26, I’m ready to embrace life’s messiness with kindness, forgiveness, and a little less control. This year taught me that peace doesn’t come from perfect plans; it comes from letting go and trusting that, no matter what, I’ll be okay. 💚
26 is crazy!! Happiest of birthdays to you and thank you for sharing with us 🥹💗 subscribed!!