I did it.
I celebrated my birthday.
My way.
With intention the whole day through.
Was it perfect?
No.
But it was mine and I chose it.
And when things didn’t go to plan.
I stopped.
I took a breath.
And I asked myself.
How do I want to go forward from here.
I chose on purpose.
This year my birthday didn’t just happen.
And it didn’t pass in a blink of disappointment.
Birthdays can be hard.
For some of us, they come tangled — with grief, hope, reflection, and a strange aching sense that time is both too slow and too fast.
This year I wanted to do my birthday differently. Not with pressure. Not with guilt. But with softness. With understanding. With kindness.
There’s often a strange kind of weight to celebrating yourself. Especially when the world teaches you to earn your milestones, or when old griefs sit close to the surface.
I didn’t want to pretend everything was easy. But I didn’t want to hide from the day either.
I wanted to choose me. I wanted to celebrate my way, for me and not for anyone else.
So, instead of a party, I built myself a small safe space — a blanket fort, a soft playlist, a simple reflection page.
I gave myself permission to exist exactly as I was: messy, hopeful, tired, alive.
I let small joys rule my day — setting out experiences that made my heart lighter.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t magic. But it mattered.
I realized celebration doesn’t always have to look like a fancy dinner, a party or cake.
Sometimes it looks like breathing.
Sometimes it looks like making room for yourself even when it feels awkward.
If you’re carrying complicated feelings about your birthday — or about any day you’re supposed to “celebrate” —you’re not alone.
There’s no wrong way to honor yourself.
Even a small, quiet beginning is still a beginning.
You’re still worth celebrating — exactly as you are.
If you’re looking for a way to celebrate yourself — quietly, kindly — you can find my Birthday Reflection Pack here.
Ash & Ember Rising 