BIRTHDAY REFLECTIONS: THE GOALS YOU NEVER KNEW YOU HAD

Today is my birthday. I was supposed to celebrate in Dubai.

I had been planning this trip for months — an actual itinerary, a group of friends, a formal invitation. I planned it the way other people plan weddings, because for me, having never been married, it was the only time I’ve invited people to such a big event. It felt significant. And then Iran and Israel went to war, and life didn’t just throw me a curveball - it literally launched a missile into my plans and the trip had to be canceled.

So instead, I am spending my birthday on the other side of the planet - in Cartagena, Colombia with one of my best friends, on yet another last minute trip. A city I already love, with a person I love. It was the first place we traveled to together, in what would become many, many more travel adventures throughout the years. I am grateful.

Life has a way of doing this: you make elaborate plans, and then life, unbothered, makes different ones. At least that’s how my life has been. Working towards goals only to fight unexpected roadblocks, trying to change course and figure out a new direction.

But let’s get back to the birthday part. Birthdays - no matter where they are spent- are a time for reflection. A day to run a formal review. What have you accomplished? What were the setbacks? How do you compare? Are you on track for success or heading towards failure?

Yet that’s the strange thing about birthdays. Nothing actually changes. I went to sleep last night the same person I am right now. The distance between yesterday and today is exactly twenty-four hours, same as always. Unless someone hands me a winning lottery ticket (and please do!), I am fundamentally unchanged. The day is just like all the others. And yet it demands to be treated as final deadline. Especially the big ones. The ones that mark a milestone year in life. The ones like today.

For most of my adult life, the birthday audit looked the same. The anxiety - and sometimes full-blown panic- of agonizing over where I was in life on the scales of career, financial security, marriage and family. The right milestones in the right order. Measured against that list, I’ve had birthdays that felt more like a verdict than a celebration.

But something has shifted. Thanks to some perspective from my beautiful sister, this birthday, I find myself more calm; less interested in that checklist and more interested in a different one. The one I never wrote down.

There’s a category of achievement that doesn’t make it onto vision boards or five-year plans. Goals you never consciously set, but that quietly shaped everything anyway. And it’s only when you step back - really step back, the way a birthday forces you to - that you can see them for what they are.

This year isn't about successes or failures. I am simply celebrating a life well-lived.

Because here’s the thing — the accomplishments you can hold up and point to have their value. But they’re rarely what you treasure in your later days. What sticks are the other things. The stupid, funny, heart-wrenching, romantic, accidental moments. The little capsules of memory that ambush you years later and make you laugh or ache or both at once. The “remember the time when…” stories that only exist because of the people you chose and the experiences you said yes to. Not degrees. Not titles. Not corner offices or bank accounts. Those things may mark a life, but they don’t make one.

And then there’s the quieter audit — the one about character. Have I tried to be a kind person? Have I shown up for the people who needed me? Did I make the most of what I had, even when what I had wasn’t much? When I failed - and I did... a lot - did I reflect, learn, and try again? Did I value my friendships, and put in effort? Was I grateful for the opportunities that came my way? Did I take risks and live true to my heart? These aren’t questions with tidy answers. But the fact that I can ask them honestly, and mostly like what I find; that feels like something worth marking.

So yes, today I’m taking stock. But for once, the inventory feels pretty good. Not because everything went according to plan. For the most part, it didn’t! But because when I look at the life I’ve actually lived - the whole of it, the detours and the discoveries and the things I stumbled into without a roadmap - I can see someone who tried. Someone who kept going. Someone who found joy in places she never thought to look. Someone who I can be proud of.

And that’s reason enough to celebrate!

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