I celebrated an event on Monday. Since the year of the bicentennial, I have celebrated the day the world was never the same because I entered it!

I love social media on my birthday. I do. I get a day long celebration with texts and messages and posts and pictures from my friends world over. It is fun to be noticed and loved on and showered with positive attention.

However, social media belongs in it’s place. The day after your birthday and suddenly your fb and insta feeds are full of ads for hormone supplements, how to beat menopause, how to work out like a 30 year old, how to look younger, leaner, and feel better. I swear I just deleted all that crap and it’s back again. How about marketing towards clear unaltered skin, strong straight teeth, herbal teas, and cute bifocals? Social media you make me feel bad about myself. How dare you? I’m fine.

How about I celebrate being alive and healthy? Not everyone can say so.

How about I accept that my body parts are exactly as old as they are? I am fortunate to still have them all.

Although I buy into the hoopla surrounding self-care and being kind to yourself, I can go dark in a hurry. I can give in to the negative so quickly. I try not to, but it can be hard. Marketing that preys on insecurities is a big business. It’s everywhere all the time. Sometimes I can’t even have a conversation about what healthy looks and feels like without going down the slippery slope of “I want to look like this.”

So I practice gratitude. I practice liking myself. I make lists (remember I love lists?). I like food. I like wine. I like dessert. I like breakfast. I like walks. I like sunshine. I wear sunscreen. I wear flat shoes. I dress like a teacher. I read books. I try to do new things on occasion. I eat when I’m hungry. I sleep when I’m tired. I plant flowers in the spring. I make peach cobblers in the summer. I dance in the kitchen. And I clean closets to calm my OCD tendencies.

Happy Birthday to me. I have so much more living to do, alot more writing to write, more wisdom to gain, and more experiences to have. Now for one last piece of birthday cake for breakfast!

Love y’all, Marla