Happy Birthday, Me? Why My Firstborn’s Birthday is Also My Own

Ten years ago today, the most transformative, world-shaking event of my life happened.

Of course, the star of the day is my daughter, celebrating a full decade of being herself. But if I’m honest, every year on this day, as I reflect on this moment, I’m celebrating an anniversary that is entirely my own.

It’s the anniversary of the day I was born as a parent.

I believe that when your first child enters the world, you don’t just gain a new role; you literally shed an old self and step into a new identity. That young woman - the one who made decisions based purely on her own time, her own schedule, and her own immediate needs - she ceased to exist in that delivery room. And in her place, a mother was born.

The shift is impossible to truly describe to anyone who hasn't lived it. Everything you thought you knew about responsibility, love, and life’s purpose is instantly re-categorized.

The Choice, The Commitment, and The Alignment

The beautiful, chaotic journey of family life starts with a choice - a choice to invest in those relationships with your kids and your partner. You can decide later to redefine your relationship with a partner, but the commitment to your children is one of the very few in life that you can’t truly undo.

Because this commitment is so absolute, your financial decisions must serve those values with the same gravity.

Parenthood doesn't just change your calendar; it changes your balance sheet. The financial considerations suddenly encompass every aspect of your life. The decision on where to live becomes tightly correlated with the quality of schools, safety, walkability, and proximity to extended family. Everything is filtered through the lens of their needs: the size of the car, the number of bedrooms, your weekly groceries, and even travel plans crafted rigidly around the school calendar. The questions are endless: Public school or private school? Should I save for their college? When will they need the cars? Should I even buy their cars? Music class, gymnastics, chess, all together? The moment one question is answered, another immediately arises. But whatever I do, I always anchor my plan in one truth: this time with the kids in my life, when they are still young and they still need me, is so fleeting. What is a financial plan if not a roadmap for your deepest life commitments? My resources and planning must align with the life I'm choosing to build - a life full of presence, stability, shared experiences, growth, and joy.

Parenthood forced me to be honest about my choices. It’s a constant exercise in prioritization. Maybe I don’t travel as much as I would love to, but that stability gives my kids a proper routine and schooling. Maybe my house is not as big and new as I wish it was, but it’s in the neighbourhood I love. Maybe I am prioritizing a stable career over an exciting but risky opportunity because that gives my family and me peace of mind. I may not buy them the next clothes or toy they ask for, but I will not think twice about paying for their music or chess class, but not before I max out my retirement accounts. True confidence isn't about having it all; it’s knowing you are making intentional trade-offs that align with your deepest family values, and that brings a kind of peace that numbers alone never could.

Happy birthday to my beautiful, turning-ten girl. And happy anniversary to the parent I became because of her. I couldn’t be prouder of the life we've built, and I can’t wait to see what the next decade brings for us both.