On a girl and her birthday

I have always loved my birthday. March fourth, two thousand and four. 

When the patches of snow give way and fall under the sun’s sway. To step on the grass for the first time since last season. That is March. Some years we were still under a silent blanket, others my pale skin glistening along with the rays as if embodying light itself. Early March is hope—the thing with feathers.  

Every year, my birthday has been a symbolic mark of transition.  

There is a fellow Pisces baby content creator who started on YouTube named Kalyn Nicholson. I have been subscribed to her since 2016, when she was twenty-two. I just watched her birthday vlog that she turned thirty-two in. It put life into perspective for me because I am turning twenty-two now. Kalyn talked about the importance of birthday rituals to take time for yourself and feel good. She got her hair done, got a tattoo, went shopping, and reflected on her personal growth. I resonated with this because I am infamous for celebrating my birthday week, not just the day. It isn’t in a self-righteous way but allows time to reflect on my year, my goals for the next, and upcoming change. My birthday week isn’t necessarily a celebration, but a ritual. 

To kick off my birthday week, I had “A Spritz Older” themed get together at my college apartment. One of my first friends in college surprised me with tinsel and a balloon arch and I felt so loved. I have been having a rough 2026 so far, due to all the forces that I cannot control. I have outgrown my space and many of my peers which is a positive thing for the version of me who is graduating college and diving headfirst into the year of the fire horse, but tough for the foreseeable future as I am stuck in that place for now.  

The next day, I came home for spring break. I used to love celebrating my birthday at school but this year I am grateful to be able to come home and settle into myself. I spent the night with my baby cousin (she’s seventeen—but my first memory of her was a baby in my four-year-old lap), and we talked all night before calling it an early night. Our being four years apart allows for a unique relationship. At seventeen I thought I had it all figured out, but at twenty-one I am learning to be okay with uncertainty. She is making her college decisions, and I am making my career choices. I am the youngest sibling, so being an older sister to her is the greatest feeling. 

On Saturday, I spent the day with my dad watching a girl play a gig in a bar near where he grew up. Me and my dad have always been similar in our worldviews as he encouraged me to explore my artistic side from buying me and my sister every used instrument he came across to even driving me to Massachusetts one summer to see Emily Dickinson’s former homestead. I knew that even if my writing career failed, he would support me every step of the way. I digress. The art form we share is music as I grew up carrying his gear into his own shows, and he taught me how to play guitar in high school. Spending the afternoon watching a currently twenty-two-year-old play for a bar instilled a little bit more of the confidence I need to pursue what I love. 

On Sunday, I met up with a friend in Philly. She was my same double major and graduated a year prior to me, but we remained close. These are the friendships I truly value because despite how much time passes, we still reciprocate the energy we put into each other. There’s something about driving into the city alone that makes me feel so grown up. I barely even need my directions on my phone. We went to the Philadelphia Museum of Art which I have been to four times prior. I don’t know if that makes me a regular but for my demographic, I think it does. I am a writer, but visual art is still very appealing to me. I am the design editor of a literary magazine and one of my favorite duties is pairing the essays with visual art. Both are forms of storytelling that require patience, attention, and analysis. Afterwards, we went to a restaurant in South Philly called Barcelona Wine Bar and conversed about our writing and careers over an aperitivo board and Chilean wine.  

On Monday, I spontaneously saw one of my closest friends. She graduated from my university two years ago and was my big in my sorority which is a title she’ll never escape from. She moved to Pennsylvania this past weekend to start a new job, but I like to tell people it was to be closer to me. We talked for three hours straight catching up on everything from school, work, goals, dreams, relationships, and shitty friends. It is so refreshing to be able to talk to someone who thinks and feels just like me.  

Tuesday, the day I am writing this, is a workday. I allowed myself to sleep in but woke up before my alarm. I made a pistachio coffee and pulled out my laptop. I wrote about a conversation regarding world politics I had with the owner of Greek restaurant yesterday which left me feeling inspired yet powerless. I also opened my inbox to a congratulatory email regarding my publication status for a poem that I submitted to a literary magazine. Later this evening, I am going to one of my other closest friend’s choir concert that happens to be in my town. She has truly showed up for me in ways that many people haven’t which proves my decision to close my circle this past year to be correct. She allows me to be myself and be unapologetic about it. I can’t wait to return the favor and show up for her. 

Wednesday is my twenty-second birthday. Tonight, I plan to sleep in a pajama set with freshly painted nails, my heatless curls, and a bit of self-tanner on the high points of my face so I can wake up already feeling good. Then I will make a coffee, or perhaps a latte, and breakfast—which I typically skip. I plan to read instead of write so I don’t feel the pressure to perform. For lunch, I am going to my favorite local Mexican restaurant with my dad. The main birthday event is to have dinner with my two best friends. We are going somewhere more upscale with a perfect ambiance. I would much rather do a small dinner with a perfectly curated conversational vibe than invite too many people from too many crowds that puts pressure on me—the birthday girl. I can’t wait to spend the evening with them and talk about everything from fashion to internet trends to politics. These are my friends that can do it all.

On Thursday I have an in-person job interview. I am hoping to carry my birthday luck along with me because it is a Marketing Director position which is unheard of for a freshly-graduated college student—especially in this job market. To celebrate the occasion, I am having my family birthday dinner with my dad, sister, and her boyfriend afterwards.

On Friday, I am driving up to upstate New York where my mom and step-dad live. I like to visit on my breaks from school but have not been up since November. There’s waterfalls, lakes, wineries, and community all around. It is the perfect escape and sometimes you just need your mom.  

That concludes my birthday week but writing it all down makes me feel so loved for having all of these amazing plans and people to see.  

In my year of twenty-two, I can see myself finally being free. I have always seen myself as the center of my own life, but now I feel like I can actually go and live it without having other aspects weighing me down. March is the time when the world starts to wake up from its sleepy dream and I can feel my most successful self-defrosting. Twenty-two is my year! 

Thank you for spending my birthday with me. 

-Emma Claire Ritter