I love celebrating.
I love taking the time to enjoy life, to reflect on all that I’m grateful for and to express my appreciation for the simplicity of life.
I’ve never really subscribed to the cynicism that some people seem to develop as they get older. I don’t groan at wedding invitations; I don’t try to find excuses to get out of office parties; I don’t hide my birthday from everyone hoping that no one notices.
I appreciate that some people have good reasons for doing so, whether it’s anxiety about social situations or a genuine preference for quieter environments. But there’s also those who never really grew out of trying to be “cool” by never showing enthusiasm or excitement. I don’t have much in common with those people.
Much of life is so random, so uncontrollable, and so chaotic that I love the intentionality behind planning to joyfully celebrate an aspect of life.
The only problem is that, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that many of the socially acceptable celebrations in life are a little out of reach if you are a single 30-something-year-old.
Most of the ‘adult’ celebrations we are afforded are weddings, engagement parties, hen dos, stag dos, christenings and house purchases. Almost all of these are centred around the formation of a nuclear family, and much easier to partake in as a couple.
For some reason it doesn’t feel quite so acceptable to make a big fuss over…
Ending a relationship that really wasn’t working.
Completing a big work project that you’re proud of.
Starting a new creative pursuit.
A friendship anniversary.
Collecting food you’ve grown yourself.
Learning a new skill.
And yet some of these activities are just as meaningful to us as purchasing a house or getting a promotion at work.
How wonderful would life be if we allowed ourselves to celebrate, often, the things that felt most significant to us?
I think one of the reasons we hold back on these kinds of celebrations is how vulnerable it is to ask others to celebrate with us. Perhaps we are reluctant to take the spotlight, or fear that we will be “putting others out” by asking them to join in with a celebration.
It’s socially acceptable to invite friends to spend time and money on attending a wedding, but it somehow feels less acceptable to ask them to go out of their way to attend a “I am happily single!” party or a “I can’t believe I actually learned to juggle” performance.
We may worry people will think we’re arrogant if we proudly share our joy in our achievements or decisions. Worse still, there’s the fear that no one will come, and our happy moment becomes tinged with the sting of rejection. It sometimes feels easier to keep our joy to ourselves in case the input of others tarnishes it in some way. And yet, by isolating ourselves we lose the opportunity to feel the warmth and support of community.
I want to embrace the risk that comes with celebrating my life and inviting others to join in those celebrations. That’s why last year I gathered together a couple of friends to celebrate my graduation from my coaching certification.
I borrowed an extra table from my friend’s house and decorated the room with flowers, candles and fairy lights. I made an easy meal of veggie fajitas and one of my friends brought over a crepe maker so that we could have fruit filled crepes for dessert. My friends brought flowers, chocolates and drinks as a gift, and we started with a cheers to celebrating the parts of our lives which lie outside the elements of a nuclear family.
Out of the small group of six, most of the people hadn’t met each other before. For hours we chatted and laughed and everyone came away saying how much they had enjoyed the evening and wanted to do it again.
Despite worrying a little beforehand about whether throwing myself a dinner party was “too much” or “too arrogant”, the friends who were invited were delighted to come. While writing this article I asked them how they felt about receiving an invitation to my dinner celebration:
One of them said they felt privileged to be invited and loved the acknowledgement of how important it was to celebrate the parts of life outside of marriage and babies.
A friend who is in a similar life stage said she enjoyed the chance to celebrate something outside the norm, which society doesn’t necessarily rate so highly.
Another said that although it began as a celebration of my coaching graduation, it basically turned into a celebration of all of the women who were there that night and what a lovely experience that was.
This is why I’m choosing to look for more opportunities to celebrate my life. Because when I give myself permission to celebrate, I also extend that permission to others around me.
We don’t have to wait for an engagement ring, a child, a big promotion or a house purchase to celebrate the way we are moving through life. We can define success for ourselves, and allow ourselves to revel in the joy of building the life we want to live, without rushing past to the next steps.
Despite what the little anxious voice in our mind may say, the people who care about us are usually delighted to be gifted with the chance to spend some time celebrating the parts of life we find meaningful. And by doing so they get to see their own unique life path as something worthy of celebrating - regardless of whether it follows the family model our society prizes the most.
You already have a life worth celebrating. Just as you are right now. So let yourself be vulnerable and invite the people in your life to celebrate something you feel happy about.
You may be surprised by just how ready they are to celebrate with you.
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