Life with Liv!

People always tell me I look like someone who would have a birthday in February. Maybe it’s because I love pink. Maybe it’s because I have very fair skin that reminds them of Winter.

I have my own take, though. I think my birthday belongs in February because I am quite like February’s personality.

Many people call February a “filler month.” It’s 28 (and sometimes 29) days of bleak, cold nothingness. It’s full of barren trees and icy car windows. It’s full of snow storms and dark evenings.

What I love about her is that she faces all the odds. Just when the days of icy lifelessness seem they will never end, you’ll see a purple wildflower blooming outside your window. You’ll realize that maybe a light cardigan will do today, rather than your heavy puffer. You’ll realize there wasn’t any ice on your car this morning, and actually you’d prefer not to have the heat on blast this morning. Just when you can’t bear the cold, February becomes spring. She’s not a filler month, she’s a transition month; she starts off cold and ends up warm; she starts off hopeless and leaves hopeful.

February is like a blank journal waiting for us to fill it up; blank at the start, with endless possibilities. It is the bleakness of the month that leaves so much space for joy. There are no expectations and therefore rarely any way to be let down or disappointed.

February reminds us that it’s the little parts of life that make life itself worth living. February reminds us that yes, life is mundane and boring and often hurts; it bites like the frosty winds of its mornings; it is unforgiving like its dark and empty nights. But the moments of almost being able to take off your puffer, of almost seeing the sun past 5:30 pm, of almost being able to smell the scent of roses- that is what makes February so much like life itself. So allegorical to the human experience.

Think about your life in the past year. Think of the bad things. I know how easy it is to think of some. I know if I think of mine, I think of hardship, sadness, hurt. I think of being so depressed I couldn’t even get up to go to class. I think of my car getting stolen. I think of the friendships that have gone south. I think of the exams and assignments I have failed. I think of that person at my job who was impatient with me. I think of the bad things.

And then I attempt to think of all the good in the past year. Getting a 100 on that final. Getting my stolen car back. Getting over 200 likes on an instagram post. Losing the weight. Buying more clothes. All the things that are supposed to be “good.”

But when I really think about this past year, when I really try to think of the “good” things. I realize the best parts weren’t what I thought they would be. I realize the bad things that seem so huge really aren’t so bad when I think about it.

Because what comes to mind when I think of what makes life worth living, of what makes pain and suffering worth it, of what the meaning of life is- what comes to mind is the way me and Kennedy laughed when my car was stolen; the disbelief on our faces is forever burned in memory along with the feeling of my abdomen hurting from laughter-not the fact that I was without a car.

What comes to mind is watching Little Women with my friends at my house in Aledo, and crying when Beth dies-not how stressed I was over being a good hostess.

What comes to mind is my boyfriend and I laughing on the quiet floor of the library at 4am, doing anything but getting work done-not the fact that I would be exhausted the next day.

What comes to mind is me spilling the jug of Hibiscus tea at the coffee shop I used to work at, and the customer who saw it laughing with me-not the fact that I would have to clean it up and make more the next day.

What comes to mind is getting salted peanut butter ice cream with my roommates after a long week-not how many calories are in the ice cream.

What comes to mind is getting piercings at 9pm with my friend Kelly, for the second year in a row-not how badly the piercing hurt.

What comes to mind is my friend making me a free coffee at the coffee shop she works at and writing a heart on the cup-not how sugary the coffee was.

What comes to mind is receiving a happy birthday text from a friend I haven’t spoken to in a while-and I miss them.

What comes to mind is the kitten running across the street while I’m out on a run-not the amount of calories I’m burning while on said run.

What comes to mind is hugging my boyfriend after not seeing him for months-not us crying in the airport saying goodbye.

What comes to mind is getting to stay with my friend Savannah for over a month in the summer, and the notes she would leave for me before I left for work-not the fact that I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere.

What comes to mind is getting calling my grandparents and hearing about their lives-not how old they are getting.

What comes to mind is getting my nails done with my mom-not how far away I feel from her and my dad because of how busy I am.

What comes to mind is trying to do the Dancing With the Stars dance move with Liz-not how stressed I felt with schoolwork.

What comes to mind is watching Love is Blind every night of spring break with Kennedy and Liz and Chloe-not how hard it was for me to get out of bed that month.

What comes to mind is my new nursing friend group and how loved I feel by them-not how lonely I felt this year.

What comes to mind is all of the little things I didn’t even know I would consider good. What comes to mind are the small things, the glimmers of hope in this seemingly hopeless world. What comes to mind are all the reasons to live. All the reasons to keep going. All the reasons to hope for more.

February has those moments. February has blossoms despite the cold-even if it’s just one little dandelion, it’s there. February has sunshine despite the clouds-even if it’s one day, it’s there. February has a day dedicated to love-even if you are single, it’s there. And February has leap day, every 4 years-a reminder of how temporary all of this is; of how fleeting each day is; that even a day that comes every year is not promised.

So I like to think I am like February because I find happiness despite every little sad thing, just like how February shows beauty despite every reason not to. Just how February is warm and blooming despite the odds. Just how February makes it to the end, despite everything, even an extra day.

What makes life worth living, what makes it beautiful, what makes it joyous-are the unexpected moments in the never-ending storm, that remind us life can be and is good, if only we remember it.