I received a card stating this a few years ago and found it amusing enough to become my birthday theme. I am not really prone to random profane statements on my own.
Do not even think about asking me how old I am. I would never tell you, anyway. I am young enough to be reckless and take crazy chances―but old enough to make fairly good choices when necessary.
I an quite practiced at creating my own birthday celebrations. Ten days after Christmas is not the most opportune day for people to get into a festive party mood. My family still gives me gifts wrapped in Christmas paper. Most of my friends forget this day is my birthday. I certainly do not blame them. Enough already with the holidays this time of year. I can always picture the thought bubbles above my brothers’ heads, “Oh, gawd, it’s her birthday. We need to do something.” Actually just leaving me by myself to run amuck is a good something to me. I crave the solace of selfish days alone with no responsibilities or obligations. Although I will admit to wishing for a summer birthday when I was a kid.
But I like my birthday now. To me, it represents the start of a new year. A blank canvas effect. A chance to have some do-overs from the previous year and an opportunity to think of lofty goals for the next year. Most years I say I am going to become a prolific writer. There are an infinite amount of stories inside me all waiting for their turn to be told. Some years I ponder a book.
Last year I painted some of my best pieces, this year I’m going to paint even more. I am also going to:
▪Be kinder to others.
▪Nurture my friendships.
▪…and have much more patience with my aging mother.
On this fine birthday I am going to sleep in, take a nap, eat my favorite foods, and buy myself a few presents that I probably cannot afford. This would be the reckless me.
Because today is my godamm birthday.
© Dori Owen 2017
Dori Owen is an infamous artist, writer, zealous activist and admitted Crazy Girl. She is a columnist on Feminine Collective and an editor on the The Lithium Chronicles. All she wants is a pony for her birthday. To read more of Dori’s brilliant words, check out her column on Feminine Collective.