The B-Roll #25: A birthday letter

Hey you,

I hope that this finds you between the ridiculous marketing emails trying to trick your inbox today. It’s a cruel joke whenever April Fool’s falls on a Monday, which can obviously also be said about my birthday.

As I wrote that last sentence, my brain completed the thought with “as I’m sure it was a cruel joke for my mom to give birth to me on a Monday.”

Hi, have we met? My sense of humor is morbid as fuck.

39 years ago, my young mother went to the hospital on Sunday night when I decided it was time to get out into the world. Most people know the story of how she went into labor around 9 PM on Sunday and I was born 12 hours later on April 1st. What I rarely share is the fact that I was born in a teaching hospital, which meant that I entered the world in a room full of interns and doctors at the beginning of their career.

I mean, it’s just another piece of the Berrak puzzle if you think about it. I began my life screaming at an audience. That has just developed into me being a chaos grenade with my words on the internet.

I began writing on the internet basically as early as I could with the desire to share my story, to be seen, to feel like I wasn’t alone.

I met most (if not all) of you reading this because of those chaotic posts on social media.

Funny enough, I haven’t been as outspoken lately because of a few reasons like the loss of my safe space on the internet for 15 years and having to adjust to a new one (Twitter → Threads), mental exhaustion from my personal experiences, and the state of the world because all I want to scream about these days is the genocide being livestreamed for the past 6 months. Everything I’ve thought about writing has felt inconsequential because who the fuck cares about my frustrations with work or a silly post I saw on social media?

Listen, I know.

I know that this is just the reality of living in this world. That there is always someone else worse off, some horrible atrocity happening in some part of the world, and the earth doesn’t stop rotating around the sun. I still have to live, clock in so I can pay the phone bill that allows me to yell on the internet in the safety of a home with 4 walls and a roof. I get this, and I’ve always been outspoken about these issues, trying to bring awareness however I can.

So, I’m trying to balance.

I am showing up for myself (going to the gym, cooking, reading more). I’m showing up for my friends. I’m showing up for my communities (old and new).

And I’m letting my voice grow louder again.

And I appreciate every person who encourages me to use my voice, even if it’s shaky.

Even when it’s a little rambly because I’m processing feelings in real time (like this letter, for example). If you’re interested in reading more of my birthday ramblings, the blog post is live.

It’s the least we can do for each other in this world: listening and making the other person feel seen.

So, thank you to all of you who continue to read these words.

Thank you to those of you who are new around here for taking a chance on me.

Thank you to all of you who make me feel seen even on my worst days.

SHARING CORNER: Just a random spattering of things I love right now
* Do you love wildlife, tote bags, tea towels (and other goodies), and supporting women-owned small businesses? Then you should check out Our Wild Puget Sound
* My favorite artist Beth Hart released a new single and I am in my feels.
* Job search resource: In an effort to help those looking for jobs, I created a new resource. Would love it if you could share. Here are the posts on LinkedIn/Threads/Mastodon for boosting.
* Cultural spotlight: The Wine Critics of Early Islam
* What you missed on the blog: Still bipolar strong, now complete with ADHD

Thanks for reading this far, friend. As with everything in life, this is a continuous work-in-progress and you can always hit "Reply" to give me feedback, commentary, or your thoughts on the topic of the letter.

Until next time, I wish you a sane and healthy week.

With love,

Berrak