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Sitting in my car (again) in the middle of a storm while my son is training. I’m sitting here thinking about a lot of things but there is one particular thing I can’t seem to get away from – my birthday!

Am I dreading it? Yes! I’ve never really been a birthday person. While most people I know embrace their birthdays and celebrate another year, I have never really been able to muster up enthusiasm to celebrate aging.

I read somewhere that women who have children at a young age pause in their mental growth and it is only when their children are reared they carry on from where they left off. I must admit I felt a lot of relief when I read this, even though I can’t remember reading where they came up with this notion or what proof, if any, they provided. This is exactly how I felt though and it made perfect sense to me…It was also reassuring to me that I could act like a 22 year old for another few years.

But I’m not 22, I’m a long way away from it! And as much I would love to carry on as my 22 year old self, circumstances won’t allow it. I’ve become a responsible, functioning adult unknown to myself – where selfishness is a distant friend with whom I’ve lost contact. I don’t know when it happened, probably the day he was born or at some stage in his first few weeks on this planet, but making his life as good as possible kind of took over me. Don’t get me wrong, there were many times that I cried and felt extremely sorry for myself when I couldn’t go out with my friends, go shopping or even just eat my own dinner first. However, as time moved along and he grew up, I changed! The 22 year old me disappeared – I think I left her on a sideline somewhere – and someone else replaced her.

She was replaced by a person who works, pays bills, runs a car, runs around like a lunatic to various training sessions, matches and events. She was replaced by a better version of herself, and sometimes an exhausted version of herself. I can’t believe that, even as I write this, I am describing myself…

What would I do if I could act like my 22 year old self? I’m not really sure, because I don’t know if I have the same interests as I had then…and if I’m honest I can’t really remember what interests I had when I was 22 😀 (That’s old age setting in!) So maybe it’s better that I can’t carry on from that age.

Am I dreading my birthday? Yes! Will I celebrate? No, I’ll weep! Do I feel older? No. Do I feel wiser? No. Do I want to go back to my 22 year old self? Probably not – but maybe my 25 year old self would be more acceptable 😉

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