the art of being happy

I turned 25 on Friday.

The day passed with much celebration as I did all the things I’m not supposed to – eating sausage rolls for breakfast, drinking cold beer with lunch, betraying an uncanny knowledge of all the words and actions to the Spice Girls' Stop at the work Christmas party.

Sam and I had agreed to forgo presents this year so we can buy a new couch, but he surprised me when I arrived home from work with a "relax" pack - a gift bag with mangoes, strawberries, face masks and body butter. Later that night, we met some good friends from church for drinks at the Royal Oak in Balmain. The pub isn't the flashiest in the inner-west and it's definitely not the most popular, but I love it - from the faux chandeliers and brick that smells like smoke to the eclectic decor upstairs (Sam likes it because they have Scharers Lager on tap). It turned out to be a great night.

When I think back to all the birthdays I've had, I can only clearly recall a few. My seventh birthday party - playing games in my garden with classmates from school. My 21st - I didn't want a big party, but dad surprised me by booking a large table at a Thai restaurant for all of my friends. He then pretended to be drunk (oh my father the minister) so I would have to leave home early, then surprised me again by having my friends hide in our house for cake. Then there was last year - some girls from work surprised me with Dolce and Gabbana perfume and lunch at a cafe. I was so touched they even knew it was my birthday.

Those were all good birthdays, but only because someone else had made it that way. This year was the first time I took that responsibility upon myself and simply did what I wanted, without worrying about what was expected of me, or what other people would prefer, or what I should do on my birthday.

Sometimes, especially for those who constantly feel the need to gain approval from others, there’s a big difference between who we really are and who we think we should be.

New Year’s Eve is a prime example. How many times have we forced ourselves to brave drunken crowds and noisy parties because it’s the done thing, when all we really wanted to do was stay at home with the family and a bottle of wine, or hang out at the beach with five really good friends?

It's a funny, selfish-sounding lesson to learn, but there is a blessed joy in learning how to be happy in your own skin. As a self confessed people-pleaser, it's something I've been learning for the first time this year, and an art I hope to continue to refine as I grow older.