Cake and Candles: Birthday Reflections
Nobody cares about your 32nd birthday. I don’t say that with negativity or bitterness. It’s simply a fact that, unlike a champaign, Jordan or Jesus year, there isn’t anything universally significant about this age. Hallmark doesn’t have a section of “Happy 32nd Birthday!” cards. It’s one of those birthdays that comes and goes without much fuss. Sure, we’ll blow out some candles and eat a slice (or two) of cake but most people save the dom perignon and caviar for their 40th. As I approach this supposedly insignificant age, 32 demands my attention, refusing to pass by without notice. There seems to be something worth celebrating here.
Birthdays are complicated. The wonder and excitement that filled our childhood birthdays tend to fade the farther we walk into adulthood. Each year we lose more of the youth our society so desperately covets. The older we get the louder the voices of regret, unmet expectations and missed opportunities become. We can choose to listen to these voices, to allow ourselves to be consumed by the losses of each passing year, or we can choose to celebrate.
If the fifteen-year-old Andrea were to see what life looks like in her thirties, she would probably be disappointed. I’m not a world-renowned neurosurgeon with a talk show living in her beautiful home with her husband and two children. Despite her big dreams, teenage Andrea had a small view of life. She believed that attention-grabbing achievements were the only ones worth celebrating. Pride and an external search for significance shaped her definition of a good life. She wouldn’t have understood how remarkable it is to have a loving family you feel safe with. She wouldn’t get how powerful it is to have a job that allows you to be with people in their most vulnerable moments. She wouldn’t have appreciated the beauty of a simple, quiet life. So I’m okay with disappointing her.
If there is one piece of wisdom I have garnered over the past 32 years, it is that life is short and fragile. It is a gift to be received with gratitude and humility. Every new morning is precious. Every breath is a cause for celebration. Many people will never get to see 32. For some, turning 32 is nothing short of a miracle. My mundane moments are someone else’s wildest dreams. So, it is a blessing to reach this ordinary, in-between age.
One of my favourite proverbs says, “The lizard that jumped from the high iroko tree to the ground said he would praise himself if no one else did.” I often share this proverb with clients when they bring good news to our sessions. Whether it be a good grade or a communicated boundary, no accomplishment is too small to celebrate. Therapy isn’t just a safe space to process pain and suffering, it is also a place to savour life’s sweetest moments. So like the lizard, I invite my students to congratulate themselves for their courage in pursuing change and for the efforts that propel them to victory.
By celebrating, I don’t necessarily mean throwing a party or spending money on gifts (although I would love to be invited to an “I finished a course of therapy and my mental health has improved!” party). Celebrating can be as simple as patting ourselves on the back and saying, “Well done, " journaling to reflect on our journey, or sharing our testimony in church. The best celebrations begin with reflection and end in praise.
2025 will mark 3 years in my current job, 8 years as a psychotherapist and 10 years since I completed my undergraduate degree. Those anniversaries mark years of growth, challenges, setbacks, obstacles, failures and victories. They represent the high iroko trees from which I have successfully jumped to the ground. But ultimately, they are reminders of the grace and mercy that has been lavished upon me. So you will find me celebrating from January to December. I hope you will join me.
