Not horrible, not great. Just another birthday. My angst had been worked out in the year or two before the actual event, and I had made peace with the "awful 5-0". (Well, maybe not all the angst had been worked out.)
Still I didn't walk out on a ledge and I didn't stay in bed with the covers over my head. My birthday fell on Thanksgiving and was a fairly normal holiday. It's not the particular day we dread anyway. It's the reality of aging and changing and personalizing the thoughts we've previously attached to that age. Like "Oh, man, that's REALLY old".
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