Forty-one. What a strange feeling. While I accept that I’m 41 years old, it’s like my mind hasn’t grasped the concept yet. What is 41 like?
You see - growing up, I didn’t dare to imagine life beyond 34.
My mum passed away at 34 and her mum passed away fairly young too. So for some weird reasons, I thought I might have a short life too. 😔
So when Nick and my kids grilled me about whether what I wished for during my birthday last year has come true, and what I would tell my 31-year-old self during my birthday lunch yesterday...
I held back tears and blurted out, “nothing much.”
Because if I go into how I really felt, I would have ugly-cried in the middle of a busy restaurant.
The truth is, I feel lucky just for being alive. I don’t wish for a big celebration or presents, (never have, never will). I’m overwhelmed with gratefulness that I’m healthy, I'm alive and surrounded by my loved ones. (Besides my dad and siblings in Malaysia but that’s another story.)
So thank YOU for all your kind messages and for remembering my birthday. Thank you for being apart of my life.
PS: 📸 The first image was taken by @theresaolesen_portraits late last year and it reminds me of my 21-year-old self as the Royal Stout girl. Swipe left! 👈🏻 Yes, the red-haired girl you may have seen in kopitiams in Malaysia and Singapore all those years ago was me! (Just humour me and say I haven’t aged that much please?)🤣😅
#birthdaymusing #fortyoneyearsold
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