This year, my birthday felt like any other day. No grand celebration, no big surprises, just me, in my house, doing my best to be grateful.
I turned 34 in a season of unemployment, so my mind was elsewhere. Instead of thinking about cake or plans, I was thinking about applications, interviews, and waiting, waiting for the email that says, “Congratulations, you got the job.”
Part of me had hoped that would be God’s birthday gift to me. But that didn’t happen.
Unlike other birthdays, this one found me alone a little sad, a little tired, and honestly just trying to get through the day. I smiled when my friends sent their kind messages and wished me well. I appreciated every single one. But deep down, I still felt the ache that quiet ache of wondering where life is headed and if I’m really where I thought I’d be by now.
Most days this year have felt like that: me trying to get through the day just so I can breathe, lie down, and finally rest. Sleep has become the only time my mind quiets down because being awake means overthinking, stressing, hoping, praying, and sometimes doubting.
Still, I’m glad I made it to 34. There’s gratitude tucked between the fatigue, gratitude that I’m still here, still believing, still holding on even when nothing looks like what I expected.
Maybe this is what growth looks like sometimes not the loud kind that everyone claps for, but the quiet kind that happens when no one’s watching. The kind that teaches you to thank God even when the gift you wanted hasn’t arrived yet.
So here’s to 34: to slow mornings, unanswered prayers, patient hope, and learning that surviving can also be a kind of celebration.
...THROUGH MY EYES ✨ 