I’ve reached the point in my life when birthdays are bittersweet. On the one hand, I want to celebrate the gift of another year of life. On the other, birthdays make me take stock of what I’ve accomplished, where I am, what I still have left to do. I don’t have any regrets really, I just have a list of so many things I still want to do.

Time is finite.

The problem is I still FEEL 20. But I’m not. The age of Katie in the mirror is different from the Katie in my mind. It makes me wonder if, from a self-actualization standpoint, I should aim to make them one in the same, to fully realize where I’ve been to better know where I’m going, or if I should live like I’m 20. Almost the last decade of my life has been dedicated to getting married and having two wonderful kids. But it has been an absolute blur. Whether that’s the sleep deprivation, the stress of it all, the anxiety about trying to keep two tiny humans alive while not falling behind in my career has all been overwhelming. And while those precious years have been such a blessing (one I was reminded of as my daughter sang me “Happy Birthday” this morning), I don’t want to miss a single second.

I try so hard to hold on to those seconds and I think this year, I’m going to have to start letting go so that I can really just enjoy them. I hope in some sacred corner of my heart and my mind those moments stay with me without needing a white-knuckle grip to hang on to them.

The same goes for taking some leaps. How can I expect my kids to do great things if they don’t see me taking a chance? If I’m sitting here thinking the time to jump was ten years ago, then the time to jump is absolutely now. Let’s do this 32! (Hahahahahaha, I wish….)

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