Being 35
- Faiz Faisal
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
I turned 35 last Friday.
To be honest, I wasn't really looking forward to my birthday this year.
Not because I was dreading getting older or because I was unhappy. I think I've simply reached a stage in life where birthdays don't feel as grand as they once did. They feel quieter. More reflective. Less about celebrating another year and more about appreciating that I was given another one.
And honestly, I think I'm okay with that.
I didn't expect anything this year.
No big celebration.
No extravagant surprises.
No countdown.
What I did receive, however, meant far more than I could have asked for.
Messages from people who genuinely remembered.
Friends who took the time to wish me a happy birthday.
A few who even treated me to delicious meals.
Those small gestures reminded me that being remembered by the right people is worth more than being noticed by everyone.
As we get older, I think we begin to appreciate genuine connections over grand gestures.
I'd rather have a handful of sincere birthday wishes than hundreds of messages from people who only remember because Facebook reminded them.
Quality over quantity.
Maybe that's what turning 35 has taught me.
My birthday itself was wonderfully... me.
I watched Evil Dead Burn, easily one of the goriest horror films I've seen this year.
If you know me, you'll know horror movies have always had a special place in my heart, so that felt like the perfect birthday treat.
I also enjoyed some delicious Negeri Sembilan dishes at Kafe Singgah Sana before satisfying my sweet tooth with what might have been the sweetest meringue pie I've ever eaten at Plum, paired with a comforting cup of matcha.
Nothing extravagant.
Just good food.
A good movie.
Good company.
And honestly...
That was enough.
Turning 35 also made me realise something else.
Five more years and I'll be 40.
How did that happen?
When I was younger, people in their mid-thirties seemed like they had everything figured out.
They owned houses.
They raised children.
They knew exactly where their lives were heading.
Now here I am.
Thirty-five.
Still learning.
Still rebuilding.
Still making mistakes.
Still dreaming about things I want to accomplish.
And surprisingly...
I'm okay with that too.
Because I've come to realise that life isn't a checklist.
There isn't a universal timeline we're supposed to follow.
Some people find success at 25.
Others at 45.
Some become parents early.
Some never do.
Some discover their dream career after decades of trying.
Life isn't late.
It's simply unfolding at its own pace.
So what's next?
What does 36 look like?
Honestly...
I have no idea.
And maybe that's okay.
If there's one thing the past few years have taught me, it's that life rarely goes according to plan anyway.
I've experienced career highs.
I've experienced painful setbacks.
I've rebuilt myself more than once.
And somehow, I'm still here.
Still hopeful.
Still trying.
Still believing that better days are ahead.
So instead of wishing for a perfect year, I'm wishing for a better one.
A year filled with more peace than chaos.
More growth than fear.
More gratitude than complaints.
More meaningful memories than regrets.
Thirty-five isn't the end of my youth.
It's the beginning of another chapter.
One where I'm learning to slow down.
To appreciate the people who truly matter.
To celebrate the small victories.
To stop comparing my journey with everyone else's.
And to trust that whatever is meant for me will arrive when the time is right.
So here's to being 35.
Thank you to everyone who remembered me, celebrated with me, treated me to amazing food, or simply took a moment to send a birthday wish.
You made my day more meaningful than you'll probably ever know.
Now...
Let's see what this next chapter has in store.
I have a feeling it's only just beginning.
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