It’s time for me to Celebrate me

That post title might sound self-centred but the fact is, I don’t celebrate me. I celebrate everyone else. Whether they write a book, have a birthday or get a new job. I stopped celebrating myself about two decades ago. It was one small thing at a time, telling myself, “It’s not that big. It really doesn’t make a difference. Anyone can do that. I’m no one special. Everyone has a birthday. What’s the big deal?”

Yup, I stopped celebrating my birthday years ago. It’s just a day. I don’t want anything, yet my family remembers. I get a cake and gifts, but if the day passed without any happy birthday wishes, cake or gifts, I wouldn’t think anything of it because, it’s only the day I was born, nothing special.

Perhaps it is because life is too busy, my children’s birthdays are more important or the world is too crazy. I don’t know how I slipped into the habit of not celebrating me. All I know is it’s wrong. I need to celebrate my birthday. I need to celebrate my accomplishments.

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