Finally, a birthday I can be excited about! As a former United States Presidents childhood prodigy and overall history buff of the highest office in the land, I have looked forward to this milestone birthday since I turned 30.
Today I celebrate the beginning of my “Presidential Year.” I am now 35 years old and that means I am eligible to run for the Presidency of the United States of America (scary, right?). Thankfully for all of you, it is not an election year.
It’s okay, all that matters is that I am eligible. And that is a good thing, because if this birthday didn’t carry the presidential distinction, I might be focusing more on how old I just turned. Although I didn’t sweat my birthdays during the first half of my 30s, celebrating the big 3-5 is just a little different. I have aged out of the coveted and youthful 18-34 age demographic and that stings just a little bit.
But should it bother me that I am no longer part of an arbitrary age group defined by deep pocket advertisers? If it did, I hope my readers would recommend a therapist. Truth be told, I realized for myself several years ago that age truly is (sorry to use a cliché) “just a number” and birthdays are meant to be celebrated, not dreaded.
So here I am on my 35th birthday—content. No, wait, that word doesn’t do it justice. I am happy. As with previous years, I point to the same things: Family, faith, and career. When I blew out the candles tonight, all three were as strong as Beau’s desire to thrust his hand into my cake. Talk about the best birthday present possible.
Commander-in-chief eligibility or not, I am pretty fortunate as I embark on my latest trip around the sun. Don’t Blink.