Celebrating my birthday with myself

In the year 2000, time was a mischievous thief, stealthily pilfering the vibrant threads of my youth. My stories, though seemingly counterfeit, held the truth of my beauty in girlhood. I was a wildflower, braless and free, dancing like dervish petals in the spring breeze. My smile was as refreshing as lemonade, and my dresses were short, embodying the essence of pink and warm honey. I was a collection of bones, fragile under the weight of insecurities, yet radiant with the glow of youth. Today, my chin is softer, my hands bear the marks of time, and my breasts are full, offering comfort to a child’s slumber. Time has been kind, allowing me to still wear sundresses, now modestly knee-length, as a testament to the enduring spirit of my youth.

By 2035, time had become a hijacker, holding my health in a relentless grip, draining the remnants of my beauty. Yet, I was once a starlet, the muse behind words that stole breaths, and the half-naked woman immortalized in art. I was the melody of an old song, the burning amber and melting snow, ginger and honeysuckle. Beneath my skin, a series of earthquakes rumbled, a testament to the passion and excitement that once coursed through my veins. Today, my hands are as cold as February, my skin a delicate map of veins, a reminder of the heat that once fueled my rapture. Time has slowed my steps and etched its mark upon my legs, but I remain brave, with a closet full of long summer dresses, a symbol of resilience.

In 2045, time is an old friend, guiding me from my mother’s womb like the sun coaxing a flower from its roots. It has bestowed upon me beauty, health, children, grandchildren, winters, wars, and countless sunrises. Time has given me much to live for, much to learn from, and much to lose, but it has also given me itself. I am now too old to be taken seriously, my teeth long gone, but I hope you find this letter one day. Read it with the open mind of a dreamer and the fervor of a wild heart. The meaning of life, dear, is time. It is what you achieve in that time that defines your existence.

©️ Beatriz Esmer