It’s one week to the big day and three people have asked what I want for my birthday this year. Of course, what I mean by people is only my Mom, my big Sis, and my boyfriend. Yet I have no idea what I want.
If you have taken a peek at my childhood, you would have known that I love presents. Precisely, I love opening presents. Three months ago my baby nephew turned one month old and we held a celebration for him. There were lots and lots of gifts from various people. Guess who was the one who opened them? Nope, not my nephew (he’s one month old). Not even his mom (my sis) or his dad (my bro in law). But his auntie. Which is me.
Over the years, I have received less and less birthday presents. I bet you all have experienced this too. Like, back in Primary School, every girlfriend gives every other girlfriend a gift. You could end up with fifteen gifts (which is a lot for me) in one day, not to mention the gifts from your Mom, Dad (who usually exclusively gets useful outdoor equipment for me), Grandma, Grandpa, Granny, Granddaddy, and so on. Over the past years, of course, I can count my presents using my right hand. They are from: my parents, my sisters, my boyfriend, and my best friend. The end.
As I wrote a couple of years back, every year birthday has lost its charm. I no longer wait until midnight to celebrate the day. My sister didn’t wake up to call me at 12am (she was studying in Singapore and I was still in Jakarta at that time). Friends stopped messaging me when the bell stroke twelve.
Birthday is just another day. Another day to be thankful that my Mom gave birth to me many years ago. That my parents love me and raise me. That my family adores me (yes? Or no…). That my boyfriend always strives for me to have a special day.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, birthday. What do I want for my birthday this year.
Honestly? I’m not sure.
A couple of years ago I would say I want a boyfriend. Then I’d say I want an iPad. Then a job. I’m currently thinking of wanting a brand new Mac (mine’s MacBook White that’s four years old – a dinosaur in terms of technology), but I’m still completely in love with this one (although sometimes it gives me headache).
So I’m turning twenty two in a week’s time.
And I have no idea what it’s gonna be like.
Being twenty one is somewhat horrible, somewhat wonderful. Some of the best and worst moments of my life happened in the same year. Honestly, I’m glad that I’m done being twenty one, which may be translated as: I’m done being the old me.
Done.
Done and dusted.
Done.
I’m ready to be taller (figuratively), to be better, to be stronger. I’m ready to sail the open sea once more. I’m ready to make the right mistakes, and to keep moving forward.
So what do I want for my birthday this year?
Wisdom.
And the strength to do what’s right.
And love. Lots and lots of love.
Photo by martinak15
