Good Riddance, 32

Guess who just finished celebrating her first solo birthday with her first solo wedding! That's right, this woman right here.

 (I was gonna write "this girl" but at 33, it's time I call myself a woman, I think.)

Now, I can't say that I survived the birthday weekend unscathed. I mean, I did sob while driving through the pouring rain at 8am after dropping off the boys, but a phone call to Big Sis and reassuring texts from KB and other friends helped keep it the only real cry of the day.

With that behind me I ventured out to get my hair relaxed at a new salon. And no, I haven't dyed the gray yet. Despite lots of people asking me. Just so you know, I don't plan on changing my mind any time soon, but feel free to keep asking. Seriously. The endless inquiries make me feel amazing. So young. So beautiful. So treasured for my intellect and personality. Can you tell how much I love being judged for something my body is doing naturally? I'm looking at you, random man at Target who felt the need to know if all that gray was real. Awesome.

Less sarcastically, I ate at the bar in Olive Garden while reading another Liane Moriarty novel and it was pretty fantastically self-indulgent.

So with my hair done and lasagna enjoyed I joined KB and O and hit the road to wild and wonderful WV for SA's wedding. There was a moment during the rehearsal when I realized I'd be walking down the aisle to the same song I walked down my own wedding aisle to and my eyes welled on instinct, but remembering it was SA's day and she is an incredible and wonderful friend, I told my emotions to save the pity party for another weekend and pushed through.

After that moment I honestly forgot it was my birthday for hours. We ate and laughed and crossed our fingers the weather would stay warm and sunny for Saturday (spoiler: it didn't). At the end of the night, back in the amazing cabin that we hope to revisit in September - according to Big O we will definitely be back, and fishing, with the little ones - we ate birthday cookies and it sunk in that I was 33.

The next day there were only tiny moments of heartbreak that sneaked in. I knew they would. I breathed them in and exhaled them back out. I accepted hugs from kind friends old and new, and I danced. A lot. With a confidence I owe to J-Man and eleven years of him insisting we always be on the dance floor within minutes of it being opened to the crowd. I wished I had someone to dance with. Then a new song would come on and I'd shoo that thought away and keep dancing.

I kept dancing.

And dancing.

And dancing.

Until the band packed up and we were the final twelve or so folks on the floor.

It kept my body warm in the crazy-cold, see-your-breath, wear-a-coat-through-dinner, night.

It kept my heart warm to be in motion. To cling to the songs about love and happiness and celebration, even if they all didn't feel 100% like current anthems.

SA's wedding was beautiful, and deserves more of a post than this, but what I realized about myself through the weekend is that for my 33rd year, I'm ready to be a doer. I'm ready to say yes. I'm ready to take the confidence I learned in the early years with J-Man, braving the chaos of Harlem and NYCTF, two cross-country moves, the madness of questionable fertility, the juggling act of two under two, and keep pushing forward.

I'm going to say yes more this year.

Yes, I'm going to NYC in two weeks.

Yes, I plan to have applied to grad school by my next birthday.

Yes, I will be on that committee or go to this yoga class or help out with those activities.

Even, yes I will recognize that I need a good cry, YA book and early bedtime to recharge before continuing to say yes to something else.

Yes, I will be happy this year.

Good riddance, 32. You brought too much heartache. You left too many scars. You demanded too many tears and compromises and surrenders.

Hello, 33. Bring on your adventures. Show me your hidden surprises. Tempt me with your possibilities. Teach me what to do with this bowl of lemons because I'm ready for the pitchers and pitchers of lemonade now.

Bring. It. On.