Introducing the poem I wrote for my 35th birthday (tomorrow, 7/30).

34 has been a year of stress, letting go, moving forward, healing emotionally and spiritually for my own well-being, and physically losing, healing, and searching for answers.

35 doesn’t find me all happy and glowing and picture perfect. It doesn’t find me with everything figured out. 35 feels like it has found me in a mess, an absolute shit show of feelings and loss.

And it’s absolutely okay for life to be like that sometimes.




”Happy 35th”


Turning 35

Feels like being swallowed up alive

I’ve never felt so much pressure

In my entire life

To exist

Succeed

Make something of myself

I don’t feel proud

I feel profoundly pained

Very much aware

of all I’ve given up to stay

Very much aware of every loss

Of every stain

Aware of every failure

Of every dream

I never sustained

35 feels like a giant ocean wave

I’m learning still

What it means to

Rest

Reflect

Remain

I’m struggling to find my way

35 has found me

Popping rxs

For new aches and pains

Struggling to breathe

On difficult days

Struggling to keep being

Someone who prays

35 has found me

In the whiplash of life

Seeing anyone can become sick

Learning I can face real strife

35 finds me wondering

When will the world get better?

When will my life get easier?

Will these passions even matter?

Year 35

I’m still alive

And that has to be enough

For all the things I’ve lost or carried

Existing has to be enough

Right now I’m tired

And 35 feels daunting

Maybe someday I’ll look back

And 35 won’t feel so haunting

I sit here with my eyes closed

Picturing the faces

Of every baby I haven’t held

And every dream

I feel I’ve wasted

35 is tired

And I fear

So it will be at 36

37

38

39

I’m told this will get better

But with how much time?

35 is ragged

And just wants to lie down

Maybe this year will change me

Maybe more is to be found

This voice is wavering

She knows nothing

Anymore

She truly hopes

There’s something good

35 has in store