Another Year Around the Sun.

Looming Fear of Aging.

hello hello. the new year arrives every year with a singular blow to my chest; i have yet again traveled another circle around the sun. January babies know the struggle that no one else does. the looming depression of holiday season hasn’t turned the corner that the new wave of aging knocks on your door.

this newsletter is about my birthday!

i used to be a very big birthday person. i loved the idea of it and celebrating it and every year id try to make some big event but for one reason or another, id always end up not doing a big splashy birthday, ever. i was so influenced by rom-com birthdays that i always thought if i were to do something big, i could be the happiest version of myself; as if id ride the birthday train of happiness all the way into new years. silly little man-child who believes one day can bring you enough happiness to last a year. on the other hand, that could very easily be true if i wasnt so darn glass half empty all the time.

so, i went against my better judgement and let my friend influence me a bit for my last birthday. in her words, “you have to celebrate it cuz its your last birthday in high-school and your last birthday in bahrain”. she wasn’t wrong though so i listened to her and planned this whole elaborate day. we took a boat to an island in the morning, spent the day at the beach, then boat-ride back to mainland, got changed and went to what i can only describe as the most appropriate restaurant for my birthday; posh enough that i cant it afford on a regular day but not too over-the-top that i need to wear Chanel (not that i own any Chanel but hey, no price tag on dreaming).

honestly, i will forever be grateful to that friend because i had such a fucking blast that day. i didnt ride this happiness thru the year for sure but i got that day to always remember.

i also had a running streak of always crying on my birthday. i swear to god, not one year in 19 years had i not cried on my birthday. no matter what i always fucking bawled. it was a running joke between my friends about how no matter how great of a day i have, i will always cry. like on my 15th, when my friend planned a not-so-surprise surprise birthday party for me and invited her friends to it?? like, i had friends of my own? she invited 3 of my friends, and a group of her friends who i hated and who hated me. like? i had reasons to cry that day c’mon. but, a better example, on my 19th when my ex made this whole elaborate plan for my birthday and i got gifts and it was really sweet and romantic, i still came home and cried. i dont know why. but, on my 20th, these eyes didn’t shed no tears baby!!

so not only will i remember my 20th as the first birthday party i planned for myself, but i will also remember it for not crying on it.

the song i’ve been listening to lately is actually the entire album, “When The Pawn…” by Fiona Apple. i recently came across a post that it had been 25 years since it was released and i re-discovered it. been blasting it on repeat.

now comes my 21st just around the corner and it cannot be more dreadful. this is my first birthday in my own place, my first birthday in uni, and my first birthday in this new life. i know none of us have ever been the age we’re turning before so we all go into this shit completely blind, but i am genuinely terrified.

before this, it was fine. but this tag of 21 seems a little too serious than i can handle. how am i 21!? and worst of all, it doesn’t stop there! i cant be 21 forever. one more year and im 22! and it keeps going! until i die! then my death is also remembered in YEARS! soon enough, someone will say “its been 21 years since he died”! WHY!?

there is so much uncertainty that comes with aging that we dont necessarily talk about enough, especially for a control-freak like myself. what i do know to be certain is that i have been with myself for 21 fucking years. never let go. what i know about myself is my power. no one knows me better than i know me. no one knows why i like to be alone for a lil while every now and then. no one knows why i like the clothes i like, or why i have 15 different glasses. no one knows why i make the art i make, or write this lil newsletter every so often. no one knows me like i know me. and the fact that someone has yet to succeed in discovering the tip of the iceberg is my power.

my life is currently very exclusive. not everyone has access to me and i think that is beautiful. i vowed to myself, on new years, to leave the bullshit in ‘24. i dont tolerate games, i dont tolerate flaky behavior and most of all i do not tolerate disrespect. instead of seeking revenge and being a little shit, i will opt to remove myself from the equation. so, when i blow out the candles this time, i will wish for the power to stay true to who i am and build a life for myself that i can be proud of.

until next time, ciao

x