growing up (and into myself)

and making room for what comes next.

My birthday is 7/7, and while I’ve often joked this makes me the luckiest girl in the world, the last couple of years have felt anything but.

To make a very long story short: I went through a breakup at the end of 2023, got laid off a week later (my third one), was hurled into arguably the worst job market in a generation, spent over a year navigating that, and, as of March 2025, have been grappling with the loss of my lifelong best friend, who was the victim of a family annihilation. I met Connor when we started kindergarten, not too long after my dad died in a work accident.

As Father’s Day came and went, a day in which I’m normally a mild terror to be around, let alone with the universe’s latest curveball, I walked past a photo of my dad and me eating cupcakes on my second birthday through angry tears, took a deep breath, and said, “I hope you two are having a beer somewhere, and if you happen to see James (Connor’s dad), just sucker punch him for me.” It helped.

I’ve never put much stock in grandiose birthday celebrations, but I do relish the tradition of honoring another cycle around the sun with the people I love and all the reflection that comes with it. This year, not so much. I woke up on 7/7 feeling incredibly stagnant and frustrated. Thankfully, friends and family (and my therapist) assured me that it was justified given my circumstances and the general state of the world. Then, a quick tap into Co-Star brought me the little nugget of wisdom I needed:

“You’re not just growing up, you’re growing into yourself. That disconnected feeling isn’t failure–it’s the space between who you were and who you’re becoming. Stop looking for external validation. The answers weren’t in other people’s expectations. They were in you all along.”

The last couple of years have left me feeling more “stuck” and unsure in the moment than ever. But, in hindsight, they’ve also been among the most transformative in my life: personally, professionally, and everything in between.

In all my sulk, I had forgotten a critical moment. At the end of June, I spent a Friday afternoon getting caught in the rain on the river with a few of my closest girlfriends. We drew tarot cards beforehand at brunch, and I pulled a Four of Fire, signifying completion, harmony, and celebrating the fruits of our labors.

So, if you, too, find yourself at a standstill, here’s your reminder: that’s usually when things get good.

x anna