Two Birthdays, One Lesson: Feeling Loved

Hello Fellow Thinker!

Before I get into this letter about my birthday, I want to give a shoutout to my lovely wife and wish her a Happy Anniversary! You are my Rock and you are my Queen. 🥰💐

I just turned 41 this past weekend, and to my surprise, it turned out to be one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. That wasn’t always the case, though. For the last ten years, I’ve gotten used to feeling a sense of sadness around my birthday. It’s that quiet feeling of melancholy where you can’t quite put your finger on what’s wrong. And so, year after year, I’ve tried to dissect it, wondering what was behind this cloud that hovered over a day that’s supposed to be about celebration.

Birthdays are meant to be a celebration of you—a time to be surrounded by friends, family, and love. Some of the best memories I have are from birthdays spent with friends and loved ones. But the more I thought about it, I realized that as the years went on, things started to change. Maybe it’s the people pleaser in me, but as I invited different groups of people together, I found myself stretched thin, trying to entertain everyone. It became less about enjoying the moment and more about managing the event, making sure everyone else was happy.

And then came COVID, and everything stopped. Celebrations became harder to organize, and as I moved back, I realized that many of my friends were no longer around. But deep down, I realized something else. What I truly missed was the attention—the love and importance that comes with being surrounded by friends and family. It was an ego thing. I wanted to feel special. I wanted to be at the center of it all, and when I wasn’t, that sadness crept in.

It wasn’t just that, though. The weight of the world has a way of seeping into everything. The stresses of work, family life, politics—they dominate my thinking all year long. So, when my birthday came around, it often felt like just another reminder that I was getting older. Nothing more. But this year was different.

This year, I gave myself permission to let go. I wished for my birthday to be a day where I felt happy, light, and hopeful. I didn’t overthink it. I didn’t plan it out weeks in advance. Instead, I made a quick decision to gather with my family and a few close friends who were within reach. We went out for a simple dinner, and despite the suddenness, it turned into a truly wonderful evening.

If you’re reading this and we’re friends, please know you didn’t get left out. This was a last-minute decision, and we wanted to keep it small. I promise, I didn’t plan this ahead of time. And yet, it was perfect. I was surrounded by love. I was surrounded by good people. And even though it was just a simple gathering, I felt celebrated in a way I hadn’t in a long time.

As the night wound down, while others enjoyed a few drinks and were feeling tipsy, I was full of energy—powered by caffeinated Turkish tea and a cappuccino. When I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t groggy or tired. Instead, I felt rested, satisfied, and incredibly aware of a major milestone. I woke up to the 1006th day of my sobriety. For me, December 4th, the day I became sober, has become my second birthday. So, in a way, I was celebrating two birthdays at once.

Here’s the thing—if you ever find yourself feeling sad on your birthday, I encourage you to do what I did. Give yourself permission to wish for happiness, just for that day. Let go of the worries and allow the good things to happen. You deserve to be celebrated. We all do. As long as we live on this planet, we have a chance to feel loved.

Keep thinking my friends!