I suffer from imposter syndrome pretty much all the time. I sit around and wonder “Who the hell am I? Why should anybody listen to me? How mad are people going to be when they realize I’m not everything?” I always feel like I haven’t accomplished enough, and even though I’m pretty good at telling myself that’s what constitutes my drive, some days I feel it more keenly than others.

I won’t let today be one of those days. I’m 28 today. I’ve reached the point where I have to stop and think when somebody asks how old I am. I own a house I thought I could only dream of. I have an amazing son and a wonderful spouse. I have a fantastic job that’s evolved along with me into being something that truly fits, and the best coworkers I could ask for. I have a car, a piano, my own home office, and a general overabundance of material things. I eat well, I find a reason to laugh hysterically just about every day, and I can honestly say that on the whole I’m happy as opposed to sad or angry.

10 years ago, I was legally and functionally an adult. A sad and angry adult. I felt like I had been an adult for some time already, making adult decisions and having adult finances before I was really ready. But now I feel like a grown up, and you know what: I am an accomplished grown up and I am proud of that. It’s a good birthday.