When I think back to past birthdays when I’ve been a grumpy nightmare, moaning about the passing of time, a few extra grey hairs and another year’s worth of worry lines I actually feel ashamed. How could I be so shallow? So vain? So presumptuous that birthdays would just follow year on year?

I definitely got my wake up call this year. Rewind 10 months to a time when, without warning, birthdays, ageing and growing old didn’t feel like a certainty. For a while I considered the possibility of being forever 46 and not making it to 47. It was a terrifying, sobering realisation and I spent many hours reassessing life, promising myself that if I made it out the other side of cancer treatment that things would be different. That I would be different.

So today I turned 47 and I couldn’t be more embracing of it. I’m proud to be here to tell my story and very happy to be another year older. I’ve been spoilt by friends and family, I’ve eaten too much and my phone has been pinging non stop as friends message to wish me a happy birthday. They get it. They know this birthday is a big deal. It’s the one they silently feared I wouldn’t see.

I haven’t done anything big today. That’s not what I wanted. Instead Ad and I both took the day off work to spend the day together – this rarely happened before cancer. Our lives are hectic so just stopping for a day was a treat in itself – not to mention the over indulgence at breakfast, lunch and dinner!

I can definitely see 50 from here. In the past that would have made me sad. But not any more. Now I’m just grateful that 50 is a beautiful, exciting, possibility.

Growing old. A privilege denied to many. ❤️