real.

Wednesday was the most real birthday I have experienced in recent years. It was raw and uninhibited and full of emotion, the good kind and the not so good kind. It was rich and deep and nuanced and full of life. In insurmountable and countless ways, people in my life made me feel known, loved, valued, cared for, thought of, and celebrated on my birthday. And for that, I am so thankful. In the same day that I felt an outpouring of love, I also felt hurt, disappointment, and frustration. And for that, I am also thankful.

My birthday was a true representation and reminder that life is never all of one thing. My birthday was both exciting and uneventful. It was both uniquely special and normal everyday life. It was both full of hope and full of fear for the next year of life. It was both happy and hard. It was both fun and frustrating. It was both beautiful and broken. Wednesday made me feel both loved and also hurt.

No one is exempt from pain. Even on your birthday. Even when you’re on vacation. Even when you’re at the office. Or walking to class. Or on the phone with your grandma. Even if you’re smack-dab in the middle of the happiest, most colorful and lovely season of life, pain creeps in. We can’t escape it. Brokenness is a part of our condition, and we always have been and always will be affected by it. So, should I be surprised that I experienced hurt feelings on my birthday? No, because that is life. It is real. At some point, we will be hurt by the people we love. And we will also hurt people who love us.

Now, I want to be clear about something. I am not saying that my birthday was plagued by horrible, awful brokenness. I am not saying that what happened to me is so big that I’ll never get over it. I am not intending to point fingers. I am not trying to take my hurt and make it bigger than it is. There are many people in my life who are and have been experiencing hurt that is much more searing and profound than mine, and I in know way intend to put myself in the same category.

I am, however, thinking through what happened Wednesday and realizing that this one experience points to something bigger. This post is not about one person or one event or one experience of hurt. If that’s what you’re getting, go back to the beginning and start over. Or put on your reading glasses. This post is not about that. This post is about how that one event has gotten me thinking about hurt on a bigger scale. This post is about life and pain and how we’re all affected by it and what I think we should do in the face of it.

Was that clear? I sure hope so.  I have something else that I need to clarify. My birthday was beautiful. It was good. It was full of depth and complexity and raw emotion and real conversation and everything it means to be living and breathing and growing in life. It was a good day. It also contained things that were hard. But hard, I’m learning, is good; the two are not mutually exclusive.

I am whole-heartedly, without a doubt, absolutely jumping on the bandwagon of thankfulness for my twenty-second birthday. I am THANKFUL for the ways I felt so deeply loved, considered, cared for, and known by family and friends. I am THANKFUL for experiencing hurt feelings and frustration, because they are real. I am THANKFUL that on my birthday, I experienced what it means to be fully alive. I am THANKFUL for the reminder that life is both joyful and painful, and that’s what makes it beautiful. I am THANKFUL for a birthday that allowed me to experience a small taste of the depth and complexity and richness this life has to offer.

And you know what I want do to in that? I want to celebrate. Now, it’s appropriate to let Shauna Niequist take the reigns for a moment.  

“When what you see in front of you is so far outside of what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong, that’s celebration.” – Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines

That’s where I was on Wednesday morning. When I woke up in the morning, I was anticipating a day of laughter, bubbles, and lighthearted joyfulness with people I love. My day did include those things, but it also carried unanticipated hurt and disappointment. I don’t want to sit here and say that it was wrong, because it was not wrong. It was beautiful. I want to be a person who believes that truth always. I want to hang up after the frustrating phone call and say, “Yes, I’ll eat some pizza and have a dance party and celebrate, because now is as good a time as any.” I want to look my hurt feelings in the face and say, “Want a cupcake?” I want to offer this life the best celebration I can give it. I want to at look pain, brokenness, and hurt and see the beauty that lies just beyond the harshness. That is life. It is real. Wednesday gave me the very best and most precious type of birthday celebration, and I am thankful for that.



What do you think? What are you doing with your hurt feelings? Do you think pain is really something we should celebrate?