I awoke on Friday to a gentle "Happy birthday" in my ear and a delicious kiss from my husband, but I immediately felt a rush of... not quite fear, not quite panic. Deflation. I've celebrated many birthdays and have hit a few key milestone ones too, but not even on my thirtieth birthday did I feel a slightly sour pang of, "Oh my God, I'm getting older". This is the first year I've felt that time is running away from me.
Perhaps it's because I'm a woman - that despite the changes in society, the perception still bubbles away under the surface that a woman's power diminishes with each year.
Perhaps it's because I can see middle age advancing more quickly from the horizon now.
Perhaps it's as silly as the fact that my age is now composed of two odd numbers.
Perhaps it's because I've got so much more to lose now. God knows, this past year has been truly transformative and affirming. I feel truly blessed. I have my full health, I have my loving family, I have an exciting job that pays me well, I have a sexy and intelligent and fun husband. I have a good life.
On top of it all, the people I most admire in life are older and I value the wisdom that comes with age.
And yet, and yet.
My birthday weekend so far has been so much fun - Dinner at Roka, a movie at the ICA, a Singaporean and Indonesian meal in Soho, Prince at The O2 (my oh my, I'm still giddy and breathless), breakfast in the park, BBQ with my closest friends later today, lots of presents - and I will write about it soon. For now though, I just wanted to get these feelings out on digital paper.