My Birthday, My Fears and my Achievements. 31/07/2026

^{Happy birthday to me}

Happy Birthday to me. For a long time I thought something was wrong with me. I looked around and everyone seemed to have one lane, one title, one clear answer to "what do you do?" And here I was with ten different answers. I used to call it confusion. I used to call it being "not normal." But as I get older today, I’m learning that different is not a flaw. Different is just different. It’s okay to not fit into a neat box. It’s okay to be the person who doesn’t pick one thing and stick to it. My brain doesn’t work in a straight line, and I’m finally making peace with that. The world kept telling me to choose one path, but my heart kept pulling me in many directions at once. And you know what? That’s not broken. That’s just me. Today, on my birthday, I’m choosing to celebrate that instead of hiding it. I’m not late. I’m not lost. I’m just built differently, and that is okay.

If I’m being honest, being multifaceted can feel like a lot sometimes 🤦‍♀️ It feels like I’m doing everything all at once. One week I’m braiding hair and trying new styles. The next week I’m in the workshop with wood dust on my hands doing carpentry. Then I’m at my sewing machine making something from scratch. I make shoes too — not the kind you’d see in a big store, but good enough that people can wear them proudly and walk with confidence. I write. I fix things around the house when something breaks. I draw. I paint. I try things I’ve never been formally taught and somehow make them work. The list honestly never ends. People ask me, "So what’s your real job?" and I laugh because the truth is, I have many. Some days it’s exhausting. Some days I wonder if I’m spreading myself too thin. But most days I’m amazed at what my hands and my mind can do. I’ve learned that curiosity is a skill too. That trying, failing, and trying again is a kind of education no classroom can give you. Every skill I pick up teaches me patience. Every new thing I attempt teaches me that I’m capable of more than I thought.

I’m still learning. I’m still unlearning. Some days it’s hard to choose what I love most because I love so many things. Should I focus on the art, or the craft, or the writing, or the making? Sometimes it feels like choosing one would mean letting the others die. But today, on my birthday, I’m grateful. Grateful for the gift of me. Grateful for hands that can create, a mind that can imagine, and a heart that isn’t afraid to be different. I’m not behind. I’m not too much. I’m not "not normal." I am very NORMAL.