Next Monday I am turning 33. My birthday always gives me a sense of excitement and entitlement. I always want it to be about me, me, me. From the moment I wake up, I desire to have everyone around shower me with love, attention, affection, and gifts.

Honestly, it doesn’t ever really work out that way. In fact, a lot of things haven’t worked out in ways I thought they would. I’m the type of person who, when it comes around to certain milestones (birthdays, New Year’s, etc.), I tend to dwell on the way things haven’t worked out. It’s not a particularly happy past time and some might even say it isn’t healthy.

See, I think the reason I think about the things is because I’ve been trying to answer the question “Who am I?”

I know at some point along the way I have lost myself, a struggle plenty of women have. And when I think about my dreams that didn’t become a reality, I use them as the starting point to get back to that “Who am I?” question that plagues me.

But like I said before- not a happy thing to do and probably not healthy. And I never come up with any answers, just more questions about why those dreams didn’t become a reality.

So, in an effort to find answers (because I don’t think there is just one) to the “Who am I question?” I plan on trying to focus on things I do know and accept about myself for the next six days. Then, as a birthday present to myself, I’ll hopefully be looking forward to the future, happier, and closer to being sure about myself.

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