38.

This is the story of true love.

Thirty-eight feels great. I am sitting poolside at the Four Seasons and I could not be happier. I had a prenatal massage this morning and it was heavenly. Pure bliss. I think I want to spend every birthday this way. Loving me.

Outside of my massage room was a bouquet of sunflowers sitting on a table. A hello from my little girl. Indeed. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I have been seeing sunflowers absolutely everywhere. In my mind. In my dreams. In my physical reality. She is channeling them to me and I can't deny their presence. Sunflowers were never really my thing, to be honest. They’re cool and all, but kinda big. Kinda showy. At least that’s how I always felt about them before. Now I just see her. She is sunshine. My sunflower.

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I have never been to the Four Seasons before. Well actually I came here once. For a focus group that I participated in a few years ago. I remember thinking, “these walls are real nice… maybe one day I will come here and enjoy some time. Some day.”

I checked in at 10am for a 10:15 appointment. The friendly staff advised me to come thirty minutes early so I can settle in and get to know the grounds before my treatment begins. I planned to be there earlier, but I’m usually a little late. It’s something I’m working on. If I want to be on time, I have to lie to myself about what the time is and give ample breathing room for delays.

The grounds were beautiful as expected. I love feeling bougie. I’m made for it, truly. I don’t feel out of place when I’m around money even though I don’t have a lot of it. I feel right at home. It’s good to pay attention to stuff like this because The Universe is always showing us what is meant for us by way of how things make us feel.

I entered the ladies lounge and found a locker for my things. With me I brought some toiletries, a change of clothes, my book, my journal, three pens (I never run out of pens and I like things in threes), headphones, sunglasses, and a swimsuit for after. If you book a spa service at The Four Seasons, you are invited to enjoy their pool and health facilities for the remainder of the day. So obviously. I was in no rush to go home. Birthday plan: activated.

I changed into my luxe robe and waited in a room with big white cozy lounge chairs surrounded by waterfall fountains over smooth black stones. I was debating whether or not I should speak in an accent and then a sweet voice called out, “Megan, we are ready for you.” I responded in my native tongue.

Today, it’s OK to just be me. I exhale.

The woman attached to the sweet voice takes me down a long corridor where other smiling faces greet me and welcome me in. We enter a hallway with several closed doors to individual treatment rooms, each one with a unique flower painted on the outside. On my room’s door there is a pink garden rose: my birth flower. I am exactly where I’m meant to be.

I’ve had many massages in my life. My first one was at the age of twenty-five and immediately after I realized how important of a practice it is for a body. Like exercise or exploring the world around me, it should be done semi-regularly. Since then I’ve had more than I can count and only what I could afford, but it’s usually how I like to celebrate myself with myself. My massage count increased significantly when I spent time in Thailand where you can get a full body massage for 300 baht which is about $9 US dollars. When I was there I got one every day that I could.

This however was my first prenatal massage. My thirty-eighth solar return and the beginning of my third trimester with my second child… I could not think of a better way to celebrate. The setup was just as I imagined in my fantasy-driven mind. And kinda fun, too. For pregnant-bellied women, they set you up with a supportive pillow-top that allows space for your growing belly and your boobs so that you may lay face down safely and comfortably. My therapist worked every aching bit of me from head to toe and I melted into a state of complete ease. I deserve this.

An hour passed. Maybe it was five hours. I lost track and time no longer felt real. It was all the same. At the very end, a hot towel was placed over my body and a voice whispered, “enjoy your day, Miss.” The sound of the door shut and I let myself rest for a few more minutes. Eventually, I removed the warm mask from over my eyes and looked down to see that the hot towel was not actually a towel, but instead my luxe robe warmed up for me to return to. This is how to spend a birthday.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed my wrinkles and aging face. I like what I see. I’m not twenty-five anymore. Or thirty. Or thirty-five. I’m a growing, aging human and I’m lucky to be here.

Suddenly I realized I had the whole day ahead of me to indulge in more me-time. Previous birthdays hadn’t always been this way. I’m someone who often thinks about other people before myself and those thoughts have admittedly ruined some past birthdays. I’ve felt disappointed or annoyed with myself for being so people-pleasing. And for what? For whom? No one forced me to be this way.

“Where do I want to have dinner? Anywhere is fine.”

“What do I want to do? I don’t know. What do you think would be fun?”

“What kind of cake do I want? Ummmmm.”

This year I decided I wouldn’t be this way. I would ask myself what I truly wanted and go with that. And what did I want? I wanted to be alone. Totally alone. I think most moms can relate to this. Plus I enjoy my company and always have. Being alone is how I recalibrate. It’s how I realign my spirit and remember who I really am. It’s where I shake off all the energies that I absorb in my day-to-day as an empath and nurture the little me inside. She needs love, too. It’s important for me to remember this and for me to do more than just once per year.

I found my way outside to the adults-only pool area and nestled into a shade-covered seat. A lunch menu and some ice water accompany me and I begin to journal. Journaling has been an important practice in my life for as long as I can remember. It helps me sort my zillions of thoughts and keeps me grounded. My favorite pen is the Pilot G-2 07 and occasionally the G-2 05 in case you were wondering.

I order a green juice — not my typical go-to but it sounded like a refreshing beverage choice as I sat poolside. With that I ordered a greek salad which I always love. This one came with watermelon and feta. Yum!

I crack open my book. California by Edan Lepucki. It’s about a pregnant woman experiencing the end of the world while living in Los Angeles. In some ways each birthday feels like the end of the world — the end of a world, and the start of a new one. A shedding. A beginning.

I begin to people-watch through my sunglasses. Now would definitely be a good time for an accent, but I refrain. Everyone here looks like they are from a reality TV show or a cast member on The White Lotus. I fit in, too. Pregnant belly out and in a pink bikini, I let myself be seen and as I remove all judgments of myself, I feel none from others. What a relief.

My horoscope today advises: DON’T COMPARE.

There is no reason to compare myself to anyone else. It makes no sense to do so. Me vs. anyone but me is a useless conversation.

I love this version of me today and I’m grateful to be here with her. She is beautiful and strong and carries a loving heart, an authenticity; a magical soul. She has a unique voice that vibrates Love throughout this world; this universe. She is sensitive. Her sensitivity is a gift. Her sensitivity is her gift. She stands proudly in who she is. She needs no approval. She is Love.

Happy birthday to me.

—June 29th—