When asked what I wanted to do for my 30th birthday, my mind raced with ideas from the expected (big bash - all the people) to the mundane (nothing). I don't particularly love celebrating my birthday and gatherings of any kind make me anxious, so after much deliberation I decided a weekend trip with just Ryan was all I really wanted. The destination? NYC.
Though I'm often in the big apple for work, I rarely get the chance to enjoy New York City as a tourist. We booked a fancy hotel room at the Lotte New York Palace and I pinched pennies for a decadent weekend of shopping, delicious food, and a visit to the Frick Collection. The theme of the weekend was without a doubt "treat yo self."
I went into it full force, with my arms wide open, but I was nagged the entire time by a sense of loss and melancholy. This birthday was a bit of challenge for me- I found myself questioning every choice I've made in life and will ever make, I scrutinized my (very) slowly aging body, and I examined my relationships from beginning to end. Isn't it funny how milestones do that to you?
I attempted to drown out these feeling with shiny objects, breathtaking paintings, and the most perfect walk through Central Park. It was all beauty and wonder, but it didn't change how I felt. Not really. It wasn't until our last night in town that I finally snapped out of it. Ryan had taken me out to a special dinner and we were enjoying an unbelievable meal when I looked up and noticed his lips were swelling at an alarming rate. He was having an allergic reaction.
I nervously asked our waitress for the check and we made a mad dash out the door to Duane Reade for emergency Benadryl. I was suddenly consumed by laughter and concern as we made our way through the city. Laughter because the situation was so absurd, and concern for obvious reasons. After being reassured that the reaction wasn't as serious as it first seemed we headed back to the hotel to finish the night in.
I ordered chocolate gelato and mango sorbet and when the head-sized dishes arrived we stuffed our faces- Ryan starting to joke about his "Mick Jagger" lips. For the first time in weeks my thoughts were on something besides myself and I felt silly for the insecurities I'd been letting overcome me. All that is really important was in the room that night. Love.
So what am I looking forward to now that I'm thirty? More love. More living. More of this. - b.
PS- Ryan is seriously the best husband ever. I'd be lost without him.