Getting wiser

I was born 37 years ago today, on July 30th 1983, as the third child of very young parents, preceded by a sister three years before and a brother two years before. I was born happy and grew up happy. Eternal gratitude.

Today, I am celebrating my birthday alone in a [kept secret] paradise in Tuscany, and it feels right. It is what I needed; that’s no doubt the reason I ended up here without having planned anything.

I was born old

The older I get, the more I realize I was actually probably born old. I do not believe in reincarnation, I am not sure about how souls live and travel, but I feel I was not born new. The older I get, the more obvious and aligned everything feels around me. Was I born to be old? Yes, why not? I would not be ashamed not to be cools and trendy; I embrace my reality as well as the beauty of maturity.

Parenting my second daughter is what made me realize in the last ten years that some kids arrive on earth at a life stage that is definitely not a starters stage. Thank you, Faustine.

I therefore rejoice to become older, no matter the wrinkles. Not afraid, not tired, not ashamed. Only the numbers that add up feel weird.

My essence expressed itself freely in my existence

In the last 30 to 35 years, I repeatedly felt I was not mainstream. I have always been sassy, not fearing any kind of authority. I have always been inexhaustible, running on very little sleep (many are those who can testimony). I never belonged to groups of friends even though I am an extravert who has many friends all over the world. I got engaged when people started partying at the university, got married when they started studying abroad, became a mother when they were exploring their freedom, got divorced when they were getting married. I always loved philosophy when hardly any one cared about this way of reflecting. I majored in sales and negotiation when we were all advised to embrace finance or strategy consulting careers to make big money and exist in society. I started drinking coffee and alcohol at the age of 33. I never watched a series. I never enjoyed shopping, fashion or jewels. And the list goes on.

Temporary loneliness is a present

As a 100% single mum of three for many years already, there’s nothing I value more than silence and loneliness. Mothers, are you with me?I love silence (and the collateral noise of Nature). I love being alone (under no dwarf supervision). I love when no one speaks to me or asks me to justify my decisions. I love it when I do not need to share my view, opinion or ideas.

I still believe very conservatively that raising children as a single parent when Nature designed the creation of new human beings as a team effort, is not a great option. I am not saying it is easier to raise children with a partner, I am just saying it makes more sense in terms of authority and balance.

So, for my 37th birthday, I got myself loneliness & silence in Tuscany. They are readily available and don’t need to be wrapped. You don’t even need the intervention of any intermediary to try and guess your needs, secret wishes and aspirations. Self-present it is! I guess I am ticking a box here, because I have been told to consider self-love seriously lately.

Happy birthday to myself, to many more of those days!

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