There’s something tender about birthdays when you’re no longer counting down with excitement but counting back with reflection. Two days ago, I turned 35.

I sat with a chocolate cake in front of me, two candles flickering gently. The “Happy Birthday” topper stood proud among swirls of cream and strawberries—but I wasn’t in a rush to blow them out. I let the moment linger. Because birthdays, at this age, are not just about getting older—they’re about becoming softer, deeper, and more awake to life.

I didn’t wish for anything grand. What I wished for was quiet: the kind of peace that doesn’t need performance. The kind of love that stays even when it’s not loud. I wished for time with the people I hold dear, and space within myself to keep evolving.

This year feels different. Not because of something dramatic, but because I am more aware. Aware of time, of love, of loss. Of how fast things shift. Of how much I’ve held, how much I’ve healed, and how much I still carry.

Thirty-five is not young by teenage standards, and not old by the world’s—but it feels sacred to me. Like a bridge. A reckoning. A return.

Healing isn’t linear—but every step counts. The people who truly love you won’t make you doubt it. Grief will change you. Let it. You don’t have to earn rest. The right friendships feel like sunlight. It’s okay to outgrow places, people, and versions of yourself. Silence is not emptiness—it’s clarity. Write your own story. Loudly, softly, authentically. Don’t shrink for rooms that can’t hold your magic. Some dreams take longer—but they still arrive. Learn how to be alone without being lonely. Love is not just a feeling—it’s a choice. Boundaries are not rude. They’re sacred. Celebrate small wins. They’re not small at all. Growth often feels like grief at first. Pray, even when you don’t have the words. The past will knock sometimes. You don’t always have to answer. Don’t beg anyone to see your worth. Let yourself be celebrated. Invest in joy like your life depends on it—because it does. You can be soft and strong. Healing your inner child will change your adult life. Let go of what you thought life should look like. Don’t wait for a crisis to choose yourself. Stay curious. Say thank you more. You don’t owe anyone your burnout. Peace is a privilege. Protect it. Don’t confuse comfort with connection. The things you love in secret are part of your soul’s language. Forgive yourself, often. Grieve in your own time. Stop rushing. You’re not behind. Your story is valid, even if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s. You’re allowed to want more—without guilt.

To love without fear. To sleep deeply and wake rested. To write something that makes someone cry in a good way. To see more sunrises than screens. To feel chosen, not just needed. To walk slower. To forgive completely. To protect my softness. To eat with joy, not guilt. To return to old dreams I abandoned. To hold my boundaries with grace. To laugh from the belly again. To read 35 books this year. To build a space that feels like home. To take more photos just for me. To surprise myself. To be fully present. To see beauty in the mirror again. To be okay with being misunderstood. To fall back in love with life. To rest unapologetically. To pray like I mean it. To find art in everyday things. To return to writing letters. To be kind to my future self. To create from truth, not trend. To spend more time with nature. To revisit Cebu with a grateful heart. To love Jan even better. To be radically honest with myself. To feel whole again. To carry joy in my bones. To trust my timing. To dance even if no one’s watching. To stay soft, no matter what life throws.

Solo café date + journal session.

Weekend beach trip—just because.

Donate anonymously to someone in need.

Visit a bookstore and buy something unexpected.

Bake my own cake for no reason.

Try a pottery class.

Host a small dinner with close friends.

Print my favorite photos and frame them.

Go to a flower farm.

Finish a full poetry journal

Send a surprise letter to someone I love

Cook a Filipino dish I’ve never tried

Learn a few phrases in a new language

Pick a day with Jan to unplug completely

Ride a bike again

Go stargazing without rushing back

Visit somewhere new in the UK

Create an emergency joy playlist

Rewatch a favorite childhood film

Get a massage with no guilt

Buy myself a piece of jewelry “just because”

Practice saying affirmations out loud

Take a creative writing class

Try a new hairstyle or color

Organize a game night

Watch the sunrise with a warm drink

Visit an art museum solo

Create a vision board

Write a letter to 45-year-old me

Make a new friend

Go on a date that feels like a movie

Volunteer once this year

Make peace with something that still aches

Spend a whole day offline

Cry happy tears

35 feels like coming home to myself—after years of searching for permission, for belonging, for enoughness. And I’m realizing, I’ve been all of it, all along.

So this isn’t just a birthday post.

It’s a prayer.

A promise.

A page I’ll come back to when I forget how far I’ve come.

Here’s to the next chapter. May it be slow, soulful, and completely mine.

Anj ♥️