35 Years Old

I celebrated my 35th birthday 5 days ago.

It was kinda cool. It was just a normal day filled with tons of work and problems to mend.

In the evening, since my birthday coincides with my office’s Anniversary, my team and I managed to put together a gigantic, grand party in the office with our Clients. The party left most people with happy memories of a classy but fun night with drinks, food, music, good company and loads of fun. And best of all, no scandals.

Halfway through the party, I went home to spend the remaining hour of the day with my hubby.

After last year’s debacle of one of the worst birthdays I’ve ever had, this year’s birthday was awesome. The normalcy, the predictability of it all but the difference — everyone’s nicer and kinder. It’s not such a bad thing.

Turning 35 was a bigger deal than I thought though. It must be the warnings of my Obstetrician that getting pregnant on or before I turn 35 was highly recommended.

Well, my 35th birthday has come and gone and I remain, as always — very unpregnant. No matter. It’s not for me to decide when we do have a baby, when we don’t really do anything to stop it from happening.

But one thing I realized though.

Being in my mid-thirties, married and childless sometimes makes me feel a teensy bit lonelier than I thought I’d be.

At our age (plus/minus 5 years thereabouts), my girl friends are either married with kids, or completely single. I can’t think of a close female friend who’s married with no kids.

So I find myself often in the company of ┬ásingle female friends who either talk about the guys they meet and like; or married-with-kids friends who just talk about… well… their kids. It’s not so bad. But sometimes I do find myself wishing I had someone who understood the adventures, triumphs and travails of a childless married woman.

But anyway, that’s a topic that deserves its own entry someday.

For now, I am grateful for this birthday that came without the blues, for the first time in a long time. I think at some point, one starts to accept that birthdays aren’t all they were cut out to be when we were kids. So no expectations and gratitude for a normal pleasant day makes for… well, an extremely awesome way to spend the day.

Last. I haven’t posted in awhile, and I do apologize. I will make it up. Soon.