Happy Birthday To Me🎂
Two days ago, I turned 38.
When I got out of bed, my lower back took a little longer to get into full gear. I shuffled to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror to see if anything about my appearance had shifted overnight. Aside from a few wrinkles around my eyes and some white hairs sprouting from my head, I looked… relaxed. Glowing, even.
Honestly? I felt better in my body than I ever have before.
Devastation continues. But so does joy.
Maybe it’s because I’m finally present in my life. Every day is shaped by an adventure sparked by curiosity. Or maybe it’s all the fresh fruit I eat daily. Probably both.
Every now and then, a memory of a former version of myself will pop up—a younger, more insecure woman who hated her job, her city, her body, her obligations. And I smile. Because wow... I’m so much happier now.
That said, I’m not blind to the fact that every step I take is layered with privilege.
My passport grants me access to places others can only dream of visiting.
Being raised by a single mom gave me the audacity to do things many cultures still assume only men do—travel solo, surf, invest, start a business, drive motorcycles, take up space.
My skin color protects me in most parts of the world.
The list goes on.
Devastation continues. But so does joy.
I don’t pretend to understand why some of us are born with such privilege while others spend their lives just trying to survive. It baffles me daily—especially when I scroll Instagram and see, wedged between dreamy travel reels, footage of Palestinians running to collect bread for their starving families.
I recently set up a monthly donation to a vetted organization with real access to Gaza, or at least one working with refugees. ChatGPT helped me find one I could trust. But it’s not enough. It will never feel like enough.
Devastation continues. But so does joy.
The joy of being alive. The joy of sharing love. The joy of living a life so expansive, my ancestors could never have imagined it. I think of the hardship they must have endured to get me here, and I breathe in the awe of it all.
This—this is why I’m doing it.
To show others that it’s not just possible, but so fulfilling, to live a life entirely on your own terms. And to honor my ancestors for their sacrifice.
The night before my birthday was a new moon—a potent time to set intentions. During the guided meditation on my app, I was asked to visualize having already achieved my deepest desire, and then to notice who was there with me. One by one, friends—old and new—began to appear in my mind’s eye. Family. Supporters near and far. Tears welled up. Everyone was smiling and so proud of me. I felt their love flood my heart. Oh, how lucky I am to have so many gems to walk dance through life with.
And then I thought of my parents—who gave me the greatest gift of all: LIFE.
The wonder and the awe. The tests and the lessons. The grief and the belly laughs.
I’m here for all of it.
I’m so incredibly grateful to have made it this far. I welcome whatever adventures lie ahead. I vow to meet hardships with gratitude as they arise—for they help me recalibrate and remember what truly matters. And I vow to stay present to the suffering of the world, without letting it harden me or rob me of my inherent right to experience pleasure, in all its forms.
Devastation continues. But so does joy.
