In a couple of weekends’ time, I turn 26. 26 on the 25th.
It makes me feel a bit sick, if I’m honest with you.
I’m closer to 30 than 20. And I’m also single for the first time in seven years. And I’m a bit terrified.
I have dreaded my birthday since January arrived. The thought of celebrating it in the same house, the same village, the same way, but minus one, didn’t feel very celebratory at all.
But I’ve been rescued. By friendship, good company and London town. I’m going to do something a little uncharacteristic of me and spend my birthday weekend celebrating myself.
A little self-centred, I admit. But, while my number one priority will always be William – he’s the reason I’m here after all, he’s my world – I have to make this year about me too. I’m taking myself away and allowing myself a weekend to relax, have fun and come back ready to fight and start my life again with a smile on my face.
I’ve been taking small steps already to look after myself a bit more. I’m catching up on rom-coms I’ve always wanted to watch, or just fancy re-watching. I’ve taken regular late-night baths. I’ve had impeccably painted nails for a good few days now. I’ve religiously followed my skincare routine in the hope that it will undo some of the mess that stress did to my face. I’ve ignored that stash of alcohol that’s chilling in our conservatory and I’ve started eating a lot better too. I’ve had a lot of new-found me-time. And instead of wallowing, I’ve really tried hard to enjoy it.
Because I’m so very lucky. And life is so very short.
And, sometimes, me, myself and I, is okay.
So, in a positive fashion, because sometimes you need to just be positive and count your blessings, I might of crafted a bit of a birthday wish list too. Humour me. I’m not expecting any of it. But it’s nice to web-window shop every once-in-a-while.