It still feels weird to write that age. For some reason it seems like a huge leap from 21. It's the first birthday where I've been aware that I am now an adult, even if I've legally been one for four years now. I know it's not that old, but it's old for me.
Being the romantic that I am, I always like to think about what my birth must have felt like to my parents. I suppose that makes me sound extremely selfish, but I only mean it in that as my biological clock ticks louder and louder I can't help but be curious about what it feels like to have a baby. I am also a writer at heart that loves to think about these emotions in how I would explain them, so they naturally are more flowery than they might actually be in real life.
I think we all want to know that we were wanted, and important, and loved from the very first breath we took. While I never doubt that my parents loved (and love) me, I intend to actively tell my children how much their birth meant to me.
Because I think that's all anyone needs, or needs to do. Give more love. Tell people how we feel more often. I want to show everyone in my life, however they ended up there, just how precious they are to me. How glad I am that my parents decided to have me.
Sometimes I think just being alive is a huge honor.
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