It’s my 33rd birthday today. Since I turned 30 I’ve felt less anticipation for the day to arrive. It’s not a matter of age. I don’t mind getting older. In fact, I embrace it more each day. It’s the introspection. The weight of responsibility. The pressure to outperform my expectations. Each year, fewer people reach out. A reminder that as I grow older, my circle becomes tighter. Bonds grow stronger, yes. But lost threads become more apparent. The irony of publicly journaling to a group of strangers I find so much comfort in is not lost on me. My family grounds me. My restless mind won’t let me stay still. I’m still learning to hold both.