Yesterday, I celebrated my 36th birthday in physical isolation for most of the day, wearing an uncomfortable mask covering my nose and mouth on the one occasion I left the house, suffocating me before the corona had its chance to rob me even more of air. Yesterday, I also experienced my best birthday yet, surrounded by the love of family and friends, completely in awe of their seemingly endless thoughtful gestures. Yesterday was, quarantine and all, extraordinary.
Every year on my birthday, I find myself reflecting upon the previous year and setting goals for the year ahead. Thanks to Facebook Memories, I am able to see all of my posts on each of my birthdays, and they all said the same thing, “This is going to be the year that I achieve that childhood dream!” Last year, I even spent my one birthday wish on it. I didn’t wish for love, or for a new job, or for a fancy vacation. I didn’t wish for jewelry, a new house, or even a dog. I wished that I would begin my writing career.
I fell in love with writing when I was in second grade. My teacher put us into reading and writing groups, and I quickly accelerated to the top group, meaning the books I read became longer and the more complex. I fell in love with fantasy and the way the words sounded on the page. I fell in love with new words, new characters, and new authors. When I was in third grade, my teacher pulled me aside after reading one of the “books” I made for an assignment and asked me if I ever thought about writing a real book. I told her yes, but that I was too young to be a real writer then. She began to tell me a story about a child author who started writing and publishing books. Since that moment, I knew I wanted to be a writer.
Over the years, I would open my laptop and write consistently for a couple of days or weeks, but then I would lose inspiration and stop. I started and stopped, started and stopped. I wrote character sketches and researched Pakistani culture for a novel I was working on, but writing an entire book seem daunting and thus, my motivation quickly depleted. Then this past year, something miraculous happened: The love of my life broke my heart into a million pieces, and suddenly, I had more ambition and drive than ever before! I picked up the novel again, fueled by revenge and pain. But that revenge and pain grew into love as I fell in love all over again with writing. I wrote and wrote, and eventually, I started this blog because I realized that other women were relating to my stories, and likewise, I was relating to theirs. I realized you can’t wish for success; you must take action in order to achieve it. I gained about a dozen new friends over the past year through both the break-up and my writing, all of whom I am very blessed to have met. I traveled to exotic places and spent more quality time with family and friends. You see, Ms. Independent, sometimes we have to be completely destroyed in order to rebuild ourselves into the woman we were meant to be, living the life of our dreams.
Ms. Independent, what would your third grade self say to you right now? Have you lived up to her dreams and aspirations, or have you let her down? Is there something that you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the time or ambition to do? Is there a wish you keep making on those birthday candles that is never fulfilled because you haven’t made it a priority? If there is one lesson that we are all learning right now, it’s that we do have time; we just have to find it. Don’t waste as much time as I did in delaying your dream. Go after it. Grab it by its collar and then tackle it to the ground before it can get away from you. People are dying all around us right now due to Covid-19 and I’m sure if we asked them what they wished they had right now, they would say “more time.” Well, we DO have time, so let’s not let it get away. Find that thing you are passionate about and then DO IT! Just start. Take one step, even if it’s a baby step. Do it everyday until you arrive at your destination. You will get there, I promise! Don’t rely on the blown out candles to make your wish come true.
And now here I am, fanning out one more candle (since blowing out candles has become a practice of the past), and reflecting upon a year filled with love (and heartbreak), adventure, and success. For the first time on my birthday, I don’t need to wish for a successful writing career, because I’ve finally made it happen. This year, as I blew out that 36th candle, I blew it out with the satisfaction of knowing that I finally answered that third grade girl’s calls.
This is for all those third grade girls who believed they could. We hear you, and we’ve got you.
Keep believing,
C
The C-Word 