Went to Dublin for a Big Birthday… and Came Back to Myself
There is something about a big birthday that makes you slightly delusional.
You start doing things like booking a 6am flight as if you are still 25 and not someone who now needs a moment before standing up too quickly.
I am in Luton Airport at a time that should not exist, wondering who approved this version of me.
It was me.
And to be fair, I would do it again.
Because Dublin does not ease you in. It just starts.
Within minutes, there is an Irish accent and suddenly everything feels warmer, funnier, lighter. You find yourself smiling for no reason, like you have been personally welcomed, even when you haven’t.
And I am not saying I expected to see a leprechaun…
…but I was not ruling it out either.
First stop, the Stage Door Café.
No performance. No trying. Just proper food and people getting on with their day. The kind of place that does not need to prove anything.
I trusted it immediately.
Then the Guinness Storehouse.
And the Stoutie.
My face printed on a pint.
Slightly ridiculous. Completely brilliant.
I do not drink. Not in a “just one” way. In a “I am fully present in the moment” way.
So there I am, holding a Guinness for the aesthetic, looking out over the city like I belong there.
Do I drink it? No.
Do I need to? Also no.
That moment was enough.
I went to Temple Bar. You have to. But I did not stay.
Because the real moment was at The Brazen Head.
A live band, no ego, no performance, just people playing because they love it. And you could feel that.
It was messy in the best way. Real. Unpolished. Alive.
And that stayed with me.
I passed the Molly Malone statue.
Still there. Still standing.
While everything else moves.
There is something about that. About staying when everything else changes.
And then Trinity College.
That was it for me.
There is a stillness there that cuts through everything. Not silence. Not quiet. Just space.
The kind you do not realise you need until you feel it.
And in that space, something shifted.
Somewhere along the way, I had got used to pushing through.
Dublin was the first time I paused.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Because somewhere between the early flight, the music, the noise, and the quiet in between…
I realised this was never about a birthday.
It was about coming back to myself.
Dublin did not try to impress me.
It did not ask me to be more, do more, or prove anything.
It just let me arrive.
And for once…
that was enough.
Early flight. Irish air. A pint I did not drink.
And somehow, exactly where I was meant to be.
Reflection Topics
Self-awareness
Slowing down
Presence
Letting go
Life perspective
More Writing
Almost Everything Works Again If You Just Unplug It
The Small Wins
The People Who Keep Everything Moving
