I met Jake exactly three months from my 28th birthday. It was the next year, however, that I scheduled thirty daily countdown text messages just to be certain he neither forgot, nor underestimated the importance of such a special celebration.
Jake: “How am I getting a text message from you right now?”
Jake: “Did you schedule a month’s worth of birthday countdown texts?”
… and it was only in that moment, he realized what he’d gotten himself into…
I love my birthday. I love my birthday so much, that I celebrate it for a full week every September. No worries, though, because over the years, I’ve garnered some enthusiasm from Jake for his birthday, as well, when he’d previously considered them to be for children. Every year, each of us gets a holiday weekend of our very own and it’s even better than when I was single. Now I have my best friend to tour the zoo, eat junk food, do “fall things” like browse the outdoor shop and choose a Christmas ornament, and watch movies with me to celebrate another glorious year ahead of us. Then, one month later, we get to do it all over again with the shooting range, craft beer, pizza, and terrible boy movies.
I’m not only celebrating 32 years, though. I’m also celebrating seven years of this blog. It was on my 25th birthday that I decided my life was finally good enough to chronicle. A lot has changed in seven years. I finished my master’s degree. I switched jobs… a lot. I moved to another city. I married my favorite person in the whole world. I made new friends and grew apart from old friends. I own my home and hope to start a family soon… and I’ve blogged it all.
Seven years definitely constitutes one of the longest commitments in my life. It’s longer than I was ever in any school as a child or any home as an adult. It’s the length of time I spent in college. It’s almost as long as I’ve been in my library system. It’s longer than I spent single and longer than I’ve been married. Honestly, I’m pretty surprised I’ve kept it up, but now that so much time as passed, I’ve come to treasure this blog more and more. It’s the closest I’ll ever come to a time machine, glimpsing the life and thoughts and feelings of 25-year-old Belle, who worked two jobs while waiting for her life to start… of 28-year-old Belle, who had no idea how to do this relationship thing… of 30-year-old Belle, who adjusted to the transition from old friends in an old life to new friends in a new one. One day I’ll get to transport myself back to the joys and pains of new motherhood… of installing a new roof… of saying goodbye to my dog. It’ll all be here for me and my 1600 or so followers. So, thank you for reading and cheers to the next seven years.