I don’t remember when I stopped enjoying my birthdays.
I think since around 35 the increasing number started to scare me. It signified aging and all the scary things that supposedly come with it. I was trying to attract as little attention to my birthdays as was possible. Once, when my dear husband sent me a wonderful flowers to my office on my Birthday, I went through a lot of effort to hide them and sneak them home in the evening so no one would notice.

How funny!

How sad!

This time it is different! The miraculous thing is that I am proud I turned a year older! With me feeling fit and trim, the birthday is an occasion to flaunt the fact that I turned a year older and I don’t feel it, and some say, I don’t look a day older ___ (fill the blank here).

This is the cause to celebrate! Here’s to feeling healthy and looking fit!
Here’s to Debbie! Here’s to clean eating!

Happy birthday, me!