Dear M,
Does getting older automatically make you wiser?
I used to think so. Like, somehow, as the birthdays stacked up, clarity and enlightenment would just… kick in. I realized however, that’s not how it works. I’ve interacted with older people who are still deeply chaotic, petty, and painfully unaware of themselves. So no, age doesn’t guarantee wisdom. Sometimes, all it guarantees is that you’ve been repeating the same mistakes for longer.
Last year on my birthday, you asked me some questions, deeply uncomfortable ones. Like who are you? What do you want? What makes you feel alive? And I didn’t know how to respond. Those questions sound easy, but they are not. They require you to look far inward. In the end, I froze. I thought I knew myself. But all I really knew were my routines, my responsibilities, and my reflexes. Not my why. Not my wounds. Not even what I really wanted. So when you asked that, I felt confused, a little embarrased and rattled.
I feel different today. I do not have all the answers, but I can at least say that I ask myself the right questions. I’m not the same version of myself I was then. I listen more. I notice patterns. I know when I’m triggered and when I’m just tired. I’ve set boundaries where I used to beg for reciprocity. I’ve stopped offering full-course emotional meals to people who only ever showed up for snacks.
So no, age alone doesn’t make you wise. But choosing to pause, reflect, grow, and course-correct? That does. And if that’s where I am now, then yeah, I’ll take it. That’s wisdom I can work with. I am in a life course anyway, we live and learn.
So, I will try and answer the questions you asked me this year on my birthday:
- What did I carry that I never thought I could? This year, I carried my boundaries with intention. I learned how to love people while still protecting my peace. I don’t talk or spend time to everyone as often as I used to, and that’s okay. I’ve made peace with the idea that loving someone doesn’t always mean constant closeness. You can love someone very much from a distance. And that doesn’t make it less real. I protected my peace at all cost.
- Who or what surprised me with kindness? I was surprised by SK’s kindness, and they did not ask for anything in return. They surprised me with gentle encouragement, small acts of thoughtfulness, shared adventures that reminded me who I am when I’m not weighed down. There were moments I felt seen in ways I didn’t expect, and I’m grateful for that.
- What lesson broke me but made me better? I learned that the world owes me nothing. That I can show up fully for others and still be met with silence. That not everyone will celebrate me the way I celebrate them. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I’ve learned to keep showing up anyway, to do good and let go. To give without expecting, to love without tallying. It hurt sometimes, but I no longer carry the weight of unmet expectations. That has made all the difference.
- What part of myself am I most proud of ? I am proud of my quiet growth and victories. I see growth, in the way I think, the way I speak to and about myself, the way I honor what I need. I have stayed true to who I am. Emotional, tender, sometimes angry, always human. I have never been happier.
- What did I let go of finally, blessedly that made room for more? Letting go of expectations has been freeing. It hasn’t erased the ache of relationships that felt unbalanced, but it has made space for my peace of mind. I feel lighter and softer.
So before I take another step forward, I wanted to say thank you for being there for me, and for forcing me to reflect every year. I also want to say thank you to myself, for living, for staying true to myself, for not giving up on myself and for holding the line when it would have been easier to let it all go.
Here’s to another year. Wiser. Freer. Still growing.
