On Thursday I turned 33. The day before heralded a new week of pregnancy – week 33.
Never one to be too excited by birthdays, I was surprised that I felt light and free – not 33 in either sense.
An old friend was staying with us all the way from Dublin. We worked together for a short time in Sydney and caught up briefly a year later in Dublin and London and kept in touch somewhat sporadically in the intervening years. The last time we saw each other I was just 23.
When I heard he was coming to Australia, I admit I had a few fretful moments – so much time had passed and my life now bore no resemblence to my life then. Our whole friendship had been a blur of happy hours and hungover workplace camaraderie, I wondered if we’d still share the same bond we did then. I worried he would find me boring and a pregnant party pooper.
But I needn’t have worried. In that way that true friendship bends and shifts with time, I found that the years had not changed us as much as they had smoothed off our edges. We laughed at the dramas we created in our 20s and lamented at how those dramas were self-sabotaging and seemed created to prevent our own happiness.
Now as we navigate our way through the mid-thirties, our passage seems smoother and less stormy leaving us each feeling more content with our lives. A timely birthday reminder.
My actual birthday was spent with a leisurely brunch and then a wander through South Bank to GoMA. The sun was shining and the sub-tropical humidity built up dark storm clouds in the distance. A typical Brisbane summer day.
Dinner was spent at my favourite Greek taverna with a group of my favourite people stuffing ourselves full of the most delicious and fresh food (I’m still having fetta-based flash backs). I even dragged my pregnant self around to a couple of bars for a celebratory cranberry and soda!
So far, thirty three is shaping up pretty well.
How about you? Do you relish another year ‘older and wiser’ or do you want to turn back time?