This weekend, my best friend and her girl fly in to celebrate my birthday.  Their plane arrives in approximately 4.5 hours.  About this, I am very excited.  Frolicking on the beach is the main event this weekend.  And spending time with them… real time, where we aren’t rushing about constantly, where we talk about whatever comes to mind and laugh frequently over nothing at all.

I spent the majority of my life fixating on my birthdays.  They had to be just so.  I favored big parties and lots of hullabaloo.  I needed to be the center of attention.  I desired validation, confirmation that the world would not go on turning if I were not a part of it.

Now I know that those expectations are too much, too unrealistic, too grossly self-centered.

This weekend, I will relish the friendship that the four of us share, reminded of the fact that each of us offers something special to the world.  And I will feel very grateful to be with three people who appreciate me for exactly who I am.

I probably will require a cupcake, though.  You know, to celebrate properly and all.

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