i never thought i’d be 25.

it’s an uncomfortable thing to admit, but it’s probably even more uncomfortable to read. whether you know someone intimately or not, it’s sad to think that any person believed their life had a very early expiration date. for the most part, we want people to live for a long time. we expect them to live for a long time. but some of us can’t give ourselves as much grace.

i had a great morning on my birthday: my partner woke me up with a coffee and a bagel sandwich to eat as we caught up on white lotus. in the afternoon, i went to the gym and lifted some heavy weights that made me feel strong. and in the late afternoon, i headed out to run some errands for my very small birthday gathering i was hosting that night.

by most standards, that sounds like a pretty good few hours. so, you’d be surprised to know that as i drove back to my apartment to get ready for the night, i broke down sobbing on the side of penn avenue to “my way” by frank sinatra.

paired with a series of traumatic events that always seemed to happen on and around my birthday (of all days!), my birthday has historically been a pretty overwhelming day. but this year, it was different. instead of crying over a boy or a friend or a dog (rest in peace robbi), i was crying about myself.

and they weren’t tears of sadness. in fact, it was quite the opposite.

for a long time in my life, i struggled to see myself blowing out the candles past my 17th birthday. mentally, the thought of going through with another 365/6 days was exhausting — and it felt impossible. but there i was — year after year, turning 18 then 19 then 20, and so on and so forth. and while the years eventually became easier to live, life became significantly better, and i grew stronger as time went on, 25 still felt so far away.

but on march 8, it was here. i made it. i was 25. against all odds, against the blows and the setbacks, i lived to cry on my 25th birthday. and i was so overwhelmingly proud.

on march 8, the sky was blue and the sun was out and the wine was on sale. on march 8, my loved ones wished me “happy birthday” and i saw a cardinal in a tree — and i wondered whose spirit was coming to say “hello” and that they were glad i was still around. on march 8, life felt so beautiful and so worth it that it was overwhelming.

after about 10 minutes of half-laughing, half-sobbing in my 2004 bmw outside of an eastern european resaurant, i put the car in drive and headed home.

i don’t know if my frontal lobe is developed fully yet, but i do know this: on march 8, i blew out the candles in a room full of my best friends in the beautiful apartment i share with he love of my life. and for the first time ever, i saw myself blowing out the candles for my birthday next year. and the year after that. and the year after that.

i realize that so many folks out there aren’t as lucky as me. i realize that my support system is strong and i’ve been incredibly privileged to receive the help i’ve needed throughout the years. i realize that i have my health and that i have love, and i realize how rare this all is.

and if living to see 25 has taught me anything, it’s to continue living for those who couldn’t fight any longer — and to never take birthdays for granted.

the world will always keep spinning, and eventually, it will finish up another lap around the run.

i never thought i’d be 25. but now i am.

i hope i’ll be 26 and 27 and 28, and maybe even 100 someday.