'Anticipation’ With God

My birthday is basically here.

Like hello???? Final hours of 28.

And I’ve realised birthday weeks are very strange because everyone keeps asking the same question.

“How do you feel?”

And I never know what answer they actually want.

Do you want the cute answer?

“Exciteddddd. Last year of my 20s. We outside.”

Or do you want the real answer?

Because the real answer changes every five minutes.

One minute I’m excited.

The next minute I’m emotional.

Then I’m checking dinner reservations, chasing people for birthday plans, trying to decide what I’m wearing and wondering why being born requires this much admin.

I’m grateful, obviously.

But I’m also thinking.

A lot.

Birthdays have a way of making you look at your life like it’s an annual performance review.

What did you achieve?

Did you grow?

Are you where you thought you would be?

Did you waste time?

Did you choose the right people?

Are you happy?

Like damn, can I cut my cake first?

But this year feels different.

I don’t feel like I’m entering 29 desperate to prove that I’ve done enough.

For once, I’m actually looking back and understanding how much has happened.

Not just the obvious things.

Not just the jobs, awards, interviews, campaigns or exciting rooms.

I’m thinking about the internal things too.

The conversations I finally had.

The situations I finally walked away from.

The moments I chose peace instead of familiarity.

The times I admitted I needed help.

The times I stopped pretending I was okay.

The times I trusted God even when my life didn’t look how I thought it would.

That’s growth too.

Maybe even the most important kind.

There was a version of me who thought progress had to be visible for it to count.

Something had to be announced.

Someone had to congratulate me.

I needed proof.

But some of the biggest things God has done in me this year will never make Instagram.

Nobody claps when you set a boundary.

Nobody sends flowers because you finally stopped entertaining something that was draining you.

Nobody gives you an award for getting out of bed when you feel lost.

But God sees it.

And maybe that has to be enough sometimes.

I think anticipation can make us rush past reflection.

We get so excited about the next age, the next chapter and the next version of ourselves that we forget to honour the person who got us here.

28-year-old me was brave.

She was tired sometimes.

She was confused a lot lmaooooooo.

She made mistakes.

She questioned herself.

But she kept showing up.

So before I become 29, I want to sit with her for a second.

I want to thank her.

For applying again.

For writing again.

For praying again.

For starting again.

For not allowing one difficult season to convince her that her whole life was difficult.

I’m not walking into 29 empty-handed.

I’m bringing every lesson with me.

Every rejection.

Every answered prayer.

Every delayed invoice.

Every new opportunity.

Every friendship.

Every uncomfortable conversation.

Every moment God reminded me that my life was still moving, even when it felt still.

Maybe that’s what birthdays are really for.

Not just celebrating where you are.

But finally understanding what it took to get here.

29, I’m almost ready for you.

Almost.

Let me enjoy my final few hours of 28 first please.