This week I turn 45.

I’ll be honest with you: this isn’t the birthday I pictured. When I was younger, I imagined 45 would look a certain way, with feeling old, traveling the world and living a softer life.  It doesn’t look like that. In some ways it’s better. I feel younger than ever, skin is skinning, down 20lbs but I’m tired of the entrepreneur grind and not as wealthy as I’d hoped. Some of the people who made my life feel full aren’t on this earth anymore and I miss them in a way that doesn’t really fade. Birthdays have a way of making that absence louder.

I’m not going to pretend this is all confetti and big plans. Some years you celebrate and some years you just show up. This year I’m choosing to celebrate solo and pour into myself. 

I’ve been trying to practice something: leading with gratitude, even when it’s hard to feel. Not the forced kind. The small, true kind.

I’m grateful for Misha, my dog, who greets me every single day like I’m the best thing that ever happened to her. Seeing her happy is one of the purest joys I know.

I’m grateful for the friends who check in, even when I go quiet. 

I’m grateful for my health, mobility and pottery family and my styling clients. 

And I’m grateful for the people I’ve lost, because the ache is only this big because the love was.

If you’re reading this and your life also doesn’t look the way you thought it would, I see you. You don’t have to have it figured out. You can be sad and grateful at the same time. I’m learning that both can be true.

Here’s to 45. Not where I planned, but still here and still paying attention to the good.

With love,

Melissa