They say it’s your birthday.

Birthdays. 

Some people love them, some people hate them. 

For me they get weirder every year. 

I don’t fit in a box, or  a confined space, or even an idea of what I should be. 

I tried though.  God I tried. 

In my youth I was a chameleon. 

I became what I thought people expected of me. 

But, expectations are the currency of fools. 

And I too, have spent my fair share. 

Here, as my thirty second year of life looms over me, I look back and see the branches. 

The spaces where my life set on a new path. 

There’s so many. 

My tree is staunch and hearty and twisted. 

And the anxious spaces in my brain crave psychic knowledge. 

But even I, a witch of trickery, cannot predict what will be. 

In times of uncertainty, we tend to hold fast. 

Tread water. 

Sit in what we know. 

Because not having a vision, a clear and precise vision, is terrifying. 

This uncertainty is vast. 

Never ending. 

But I can only continue. 

One foot in front of the next. 

Choosing the life that I am capable of making. 

Held fast in the the thought that, though I cannot see my future, it is bold and brave and not uncertain at all. 

Because I am rooted, in my story. 

Lessons have been learned. 

I am choosing to walk forward. 

I can no longer hold my breath and tread in that safe water. 

Awkwardly yours, 

Meg