how it feels to turn 30 when you didn't expect to be alive this long

I turned 30 on the 13th.

I feel a bit detached from it all. My therapist, in all their genius, reminded me that the body tends to dissociate in times of stress, fear, grief, or pain — and this milestone birthday has, by no surprise to anyone, checked all of these boxes.

When the body dissociates and no real danger is present, that begs a different question: What is happening in my body to trigger this reaction?

When I was a teenager (and admittedly, until my mid-twenties), the concept of aging felt threatening. Every birthday felt miserable, even if I was loved so well by the people in my orbit.

After surviving suicide attempts, my birthday didn’t feel like a celebration of making it to the next year of life; it felt like an unfortunate reminder that I was alive for another year that I hadn’t planned on being alive.

Last year, for my 29th, my therapist very sternly said — you need to celebrate yourself this year. So I did. I invited eight friends and went to a drag show: Something fun, simple, didn’t require a lot of talking, and didn’t last longer than I could handle.

This year, without prompting from my therapist, I decided I couldn’t be at home for my birthday. I went to Nashville and celebrated my “Thirty, flirty, and thriving” christening in their arms. When the clock hit midnight on the morning of July 13, my friends screamed with joy as Formation by Beyoncé rattled through our bones in the queer club we’d decided to visit.

I am proud of myself for celebrating something so big, but a big part of me is still so afraid. The fear is different now, though. I’m no longer afraid to be alive — or upset that I am — I’m filled with a deep sadness that stems from feeling like I’ve let the younger versions of myself down. Teenage Ari would’ve wanted nothing more than not to be here anymore. The person I am now is someone I would’ve hated 15 years ago. I don’t know how to reconcile with that.

But for now, I’m trying to return to my body. When I feel dissociated, I ground myself by looking at the photos my friends and I took on my birthday, reading the letters they wrote me, or cuddling with my husband, who makes me feel thankful to be alive every single day.

It feels strange to exist in a world I never imagined I would exist in. Because of that, I will let myself feel stressed and afraid and grief-stricken and pained. Because of that, I will continue to stay, to see what life is like when the feelings pass.

poem of the week:

An End by Chet’la Sebree

song of the week:

No Complaints by Noah Kahan has probably been song of the week before, but it’s going to be song of the week again. I saw the end, and it looks just like the middle hits me every single time.

all the love, all the warmth, all the light,

housekeeping:

• caitlin and i still have a few spots left for the interrogation retreat! apply with a friend! see you this august!

• icymi: i made a doc full of book recommendations for people who want to read more poetry but don’t know where to start!

• don’t forget to complete your one click today to support aid efforts in Palestine

• unfold: poetry + prose, is available on amazon, bookshop, indigo, b&n, or wherever you get books <3

• you can still buy paper girl from amazon, barnes & noble, indigo, or your local indie.

• i love you. and i see you. and i am so glad you're here.

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who i am: a writer, a lover, and a very Black + queer person. i love deeply, forget rarely, and spend most of my time cuddling with my dog, my cat, and my partner.

who i'm not: a therapist, mental health professional, or emergency service. i love hearing the stories of your experiences, but please don't send explicit or triggering details of your story without my prior consent.

if you're in crisis, please call 911 or use any of the following resources:

• National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 988

• National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

• Crisis Text Line: Text HELP to 741741

• S.A.F.E. (Self Abuse Finally Ends): 1-800-DONT-CUT (366-8288)

• Eating Disorders Awareness and Prevention: 1-800-931-2237

• RAINN (Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network): 1-800-656-4673