I read an article yesterday about making friends as adults. It went on about how complicated it is to make ‘real’ friends, like the ones we make at school or as children. I have often wondered about that. As an immigrant from a small country, there is no real base that I started my social circle with when I moved to Vancouver – no neighbourhood where people looked like me or an abundance of people around who knew my culture and language. I had to build it up from scratch. I started with just one friend and now I’m realizing that I have quite a few people in my life who I can count on.
With my birthday coming up next week, I start thinking about the people who will be there to help me celebrate. Then I try to remember about how I typically celebrated my birthday when I lived in Trinidad. Hmmmm…it usually went off without it being a big deal – with only brothers, things were usually understated. It was my mother, if anyone, who made the effort. Since I’ve been here, I’ve always had at least one person over or at the bare minimum, my ex-husband’s parents when we were married. It seems that my birthdays here have been much more of a celebration. Interesting, isn’t it? All this time, I’ve been thinking in my heart of hearts, I’m out here in the big bad world by myself and I’ve got no one *insert rusting violin here*. It turns out that all these years I’ve been romanticizing my social life when I lived in Trinidad and I’ve probably got it WAY better here. Sure, I don’t have blood relatives in Vancouver, but I’ve got people who have my back.
I have people in my life who care about me. This revelation makes me choke up a bit. They are not related by blood, but when I open my eyes after making my wish after a rousing rendition of “Happy birthday to youuuuuuuuuu”, I can look into the faces of people who love them some Vikera.
The goal was to write the post in 10 minutes. It was remarkably easy today. I guess I had this on my mind and it just tumbled out of me.
Have a good day! oxox