I turned 35 a couple of weeks ago. Gulp. It kind of feels like a big deal. Not 30 or 40 big, but still a milestone. I can remember when my mom turned 35, and that seems significant. On my birthday, I felt like I had aged. Sure, the tiredness was more likely due to the fact that we have an infant in the house or that we were all recovering from the virus from hell (and subsequently nursing the visiting company we passed it on to, sigh.), but still. I did not feel like partying.
And that works for me. Birthdays are more a time of reflection; a time when I can take stock of where I've come from, where I'm going, and - most importantly - what I've outgrown. It's been a hard lesson for me to learn (and I'm still working on it!) but I'm appreciating, more and more, the importance of letting go of those things that bog me down and keep me from growing.