Why Do I Love My Birthday So Much? I learned a long time ago that no one gives a shit about your birthday if you don't

May 4th, 1998. 10:15pm and BAM! Here I am world! Forced into being here, even though I would have really loved to stay in that warm cavern I’d gotten so used to. Blinking my big, blue, and sage eyes (like as in wise, but I now see that sage the color is also appropriate), even then I could feel burdens I’d inherited. Divorce, scandal, teen pregnancy, racism, broken homes, and scattered dreams. Knowing what surrounded me, what chance did I have to be anyone other than me?

Being an early May baby means my astrological sun sign is in Taurus. At exactly the time I was born and where, the moon was in Virgo, and Sagittarius was rising on the Eastern Horizon. If you don’t get that, basically my big 3 are Taurus Sun, Virgo Moon, and Sagittarius Rising. Taurus lends itself to my beauty and grounded personality. Virgo shows up in my need to understand everything, even emotions. To the extent where I take everything apart and sometimes am unable to put it back together. Sagittarius flares up in any social setting or my need for adventure. With all of that going on in the sky, what chance did I have to be anyone other than me?

When you really start to pay attention to the patterns of life, science, astrology, you’ll see that no, there really wasn’t a choice.

Every year my birthday is a reminder of growth. It’s the milestone to look back all the way to 1998 and trace my steps to where I am. As my life has unfolded it’s also become a remembrance day for those I’ve lost. Knowing I take them with me into the next year and I continue on because they can’t. On May 4th I always feel at total peace. (Okay maybe not always but at least the last 5 years that I’ve been really working on myself.) I feel so intertwined with the Earth below me and my ancestors that surround me. I always feel at ease and so, so beautiful. Now that I pay attention I realize that around my birthday every year Venus enters the sign of Taurus. My ruling planet enters its most comfortable position. And I can feel the homecoming, literally see it radiating off of me. For a long time I thought my love for my birthday was just self indulgent, potentially an ugly quality of mine. But why not shout from the rooftops that you’re alive? Why not embrace the beauty of age and celebrate yourself? If you don’t who will?

When you finally “Let Go and Let God” (and I mean that purely in a cultural way, not religious lol) you can start to little by little truly embrace yourself. Embrace that this is who you are. Embrace that it’s not as simple as nature versus nurture, its both. They work in tandem shaping our path and hoping, praying, that we follow the signs and do the work to be everything we’re meant to be. The second we’re born destiny crosses it’s fingers and sticks a needle in it’s eye, in the hope we can survive the human condition. Not just survive, but eventually thrive.

No one could prepare me for the events that would unfold following May 4, 1998. What will happen and what won’t. The burdens in the air were heavy. But what outweighs it all is the love I’ve received. Unafraid, unconditional, and ever present Love. Love that seeps into your bones and you can feel it a thousands deserts away. The kind of love that never ends, that’s the elephant in every room, and you can feel it from the grave. With all that love, did I have a choice to be anyone other than me?

So why do I love my birthday so much? I do LOVE presents and cake and fun. But I love my birthday because it’s a reminder that I’m alive.

That I’m alive and that I can love.