31 Years…but who’s counting..?

Baby

Yesterday was my birthday. 31 years ago was the beginning of my life.

For 31 years I have walked the path of figuring out what I want to do with my life. I have studied many interesting things, read more books than I can remember, discovered my love for writing, and photography, and yet there are still many things I would like to do. But what is my life’s purpose? I am still not sure. I do know I want it to be wildly creative and passionate and daring. I want to set forth and pour all my creativity out into the world, have it flood and splash out into all the cracks and nooks that need filling. I want to help others, extend a hand to support others, with the support I myself didn’t have at times.

I want to trail-blaze a path of my own sparkly stars.

For 31 years I have roamed the earth, bitten by the travel bug as a child. My childhood is filled with memories camping on the beach, road trips during long summer holidays, and an overseas trip to the country of my birth. This instilled in me a desire to travel more widely, to explore, to discover and let curiosity lead me to whatever I might find. My travels have been educational, inspirational, at times confronting and eye-opening, but I have loved every single moment of my life on the road.

My gypsy soul lives for adventure, and I know it will never give up craving the taste for freedom.

For 31 years I have lived in my body, this body which has been absolutely everywhere with me, my shadow, my life partner. For a long time, we have had a rocky relationship, a battle of wills, which I have often grudgingly won, with my food obsessions and picky eating. Over time, slowly, I am learning to love all of it,the lumps and bumps and Latino curves which seem to be popping up all over the place since I turned 30. I like to tell myself it was all the delish food I stuffed my face with in Central America, but one day soon I might have to concede and admit it may be genetics after all! I have to thank it for keeping on going, and not giving up on me.

It is in this body I have taught myself to become a woman.

For 31 years I have been a friend, and for part of it, a girlfriend. I have met many people along the way. Some of who have played an instrumental part to transform me into the person I am today, others who were put into my life for a reason and a season, to develop in me strength and character, and create a belief in myself that I am strong and I am ‘me’. I have met my soul friends, those I couldn’t live without, who enrich my life every single day with their kind words and beautiful smiles. I also look forward to meeting new soul friends, and spinning new memories into webs of enduring friendship.

The important people have stayed, many have gone. And that’s ok.

Romantic love has come and gone numerous times, and despite the disappointments, I choose to put the past behind me with a smile on my face and search for my happy ending.

I believe in Prince Charming, and very happy endings.

Through all these months, days, hours – I have lived, loved, fought private battles, and come out through the other side stronger and more determined than ever. My happy times, my sorrows, the times where nothing has happened at all.

I am proud of my 31 years. Here’s to the next 31.

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