I’ve always had a very rocky relationship with my birthday. The excitement the day brings is undeniable, but I feel like the older I get, the less exciting birthdays become.

My mom raised us with monumental birthday celebrations. She’s always had a knack for gift-giving, party planning, and making someone feel wholly and completely loved. She taught me that the cost of a gift isn’t the only value it has, and the people you surround yourself with on days like birthdays make all the difference in the world.

Last year, in the weeks leading up to my eighteenth birthday, I’d say, “Mom, only a few more days before I’m a real adult!”

She’d laugh, and on my actually birthday, she bought me a handful of lottery tickets to celebrate me becoming a semi-adulthood. I remember winning something short of ten dollars.

My nineteenth birthday was the first birthday I’ve celebrated away from home. It was weird not having Mom around to blow up balloons or make her specialty cookie cake, but it also served as a monumental birthday in other ways.

It was weird not being home to celebrate my birthday, but it was somehow more exciting to be surrounded by a new environment and a new group of people that encourage me everyday to chase after my dreams. I’ve always had that support at home with my mom, and I know that she’s still there cheering me on.

Although my birthday feels less exciting the older I get, it marks the start of the relationship with my mom that I value so deeply. I would not be the person I am without the profound and constant inspiration my mom raised me with.

Thank you, Mom, for the love and support you’ve shown me these past nineteen years, and thank you for not letting that falter once the older and more ambitious I become.

Love,

Kayla