Diary entry #1 (My birthday 🎂)

So finally the day came.

My birthday.

But it doesn’t feel the way it used to when I was a kid. Back then, birthdays felt magical. I’d wake up excited like the whole world was waiting for me. Now the excitement feels different almost hollow.

I’m still excited, but not for the birthday. I’m excited for the attention. Because this is the only day I feel noticed. The only day I feel a little loved and a little seen. The only day people remember that I’m also someone. 

And it hurts to admit that.

My every birthday also reminds me of people who are no longer in my life anymore… people who once were such a special part of me. Their memories come back so easily today bold messages, old laughs, old comfort. It aches quietly, but deeply And yet, every year when I age up, I meet a new version of myself.

A version that’s a little stronger, a little wiser, a little more aware of what I deserve. A version that has learned how to survive things she never talks about. A version that feels everything deeply but still chooses to move forward.

This year, I’m realizing something: Even when I feel invisible, I’m still evolving. Even when I feel unnoticed, I’m still becoming someone better.

Even when I don’t feel loved, I’m still learning to love myself in small, patient ways.

On normal days, I feel like I’m passing through life quietly, unnoticed. But on my birthday, suddenly people remember me, talk sweetly, act like I matter. And a part of me hates that it’s only once a year.

Still, this version of me the intuitive one, the careful one, the girl who senses energies before people speak, the one who’s cautious but not cold she deserves softness. She deserves consistency. She deserves people who don’t just show up once a year, but stay.

And maybe one day, I’ll find people like me not the selfish ones, not the temporary ones but the ones who understand me, who see through all my layers, who bring out the real me hiding behind my multiple personalities. People who make me feel safe enough to be just one version: the true one.

Maybe next year I’ll feel different. Maybe next year I won’t have to wait for my birthday to feel important.

For now… I’m letting myself feel everything.

The hurt, the memories, the growth, the small excitement.

Because even this version of me deserves to be heard. Happy birthday to me >>