Confessions and Cashmere

cashmere, wine and pathfinding

Posts Tagged ‘Wife

Facing the fear of…. birthdays

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Photo care of has their different things. The way they celebrate life. Birthdays seem a nearly universal concept for celebration. And yet for a long time I hated mine. In the past I have had a lot of bad circumstances with my birthday, car accidents, deaths, being lost and alone in foreign cities where I don’t speak the language (it continues but you get the idea).

In fact, I had started to regard it as the coming dark blemish on an otherwisegood year. I wouldn’t tell family and friends when it was, I would have dinnerparties near the date but never ON and never, ever FOR my birthday. I felt like I had accrued some kind of bad Karma from a past life and it always collected on my birthdate.

So two years ago, my then boyfriend, and now husband decided to turn that around. He had watched for a few years, how in the weeks before I grew quiet, evasive and apprehensive about the day I was born. And when he asked why I would clam up, not wanting to dump my horrible memories onto another person.

He didn’t start small either. He just said. It’s your birthday, appreciate it and blew me away with the day he had planned. And since then I have had AWESOME birthdays; He has filmed all of my French friends and family, singing and wishing me a happy birthday. He also has annoyed/texted/messaged everyone of my Australian friends and kept reminding them that no matter how much I denied it, I did have a birthday.

This year he took me for stand up paddle between all the islands, and later on, we had a farm house restaurant family dinner. And for the first time in over 12 years I had looked forward to and enjoyed my birthday.

Looking back I’ve been trying to hide under a mental rock. Yes, I had a huge unlucky amount of birthdays, and yes, that just isn’t right. But at the same time everyone deserves a little happiness. No matter how much bad Karma that is out there. So rather than scream “its my birthday” to the skies I have created my own traditions to celebrate me. Ones that remind me to appreciate life and that I’ll enjoy. This is the day I was born and yes I’ll celebrate it…in my own way:

  • I will make it my day of resolutions/projects/aims/goals/dreams
  • I’ll choose three words to live by for the next year
  • I’ll toast my thanks for the last year at dinner.

This year for my toast, I looked back at the last time we ate at the farmhouse restaurant. I couldn’t speak French. I was afraid to speak it. My husband and I were stuck between the countries back then and we were lost at what to do. During that time, with the patience of his family and friends I have learnt French to the point that I can make my birthday toast in French.
I also touched on how supportive everyone has been of us, no matter how impossible things have seemed. And how grateful I am of my husband, who brings me back down to earth and encourages me to face my fears. I got a little teary, as did his mother and Melo; A special friend of mine and my brother-in-laws boyfriend.

The resolutions I will write about here.
And my words to live by I will write about here.

Other than that. I just want to know what you guys are afraid of? Have you faced them?  How do you make your birthday’s yours? What are your traditions for any day? Have you ever made your own traditions?

Thanks so much for reading this
Chelsea B xx


Written by confessionsandcashmere

July 2, 2012 at 8:16 am

And she started writing…

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Welcome to my world.

Where I try to make a reconciliation with all these different me’s. I am not a split personality or anything. But there are so many places I’ve been… I am so many things to so many different people. Family, Wife, Sister, Aunty, Cousin, Immigrant, Service Provider, Manager, Bar Attendant, Student, Teacher, Guardian, Runner, Lifter, Friend, Best Friend, Crazy Person,Lifeguard, Literacy Assistant, Horrible Singer, Decorator, Photographer, Drawer/Artist, Big supporter of gay and lesbian rights even though I have never jumped that fence myself, Great-at-mainly-desserts-kind-of-chef, Housewife, recovering violence victim (and that I say with hesitation). And that’s what I can think of in the last 5 minutes.

How do you get it all in there? And how do you trust people? To let them see the worst parts? There is in fact only one Man that I call a friend that knows the worst of it. And he isn’t even my husband! Not working recently, not being around other people that think similarly to me and not having money in my bank account has torn me to pieces.

Having spare time, to clean a house, to be a house wife? I have gone from a busy larger than life kind of girl to this stranger who now spends nearly a whole day indoors watching Grey’s anatomy, only leaving to run her dog in the afternoon and go to the gym. I’m melting down, mentally falling to bits.

All I can think of is the next plane home, it’s worse than being addicted to crack (not that I know) because unlike a crack addict I don’t have an addiction to hide behind. All I think of is home, how to get there and what I’d be doing right now. I miss everything so much and I can’t even decide if I should be here. That I am actually doing the right thing by being alone.

This is me, Chelsea B

P.S What makes you miss home? What labels do you carry? I’m really interested to see your perspectives, Leave a comment below xx