A big part of my anxiety is that I don’t believe people want to spend time with me. They might do so out of obligation or pity, but not because they actually enjoy my company. 

Today I turn 32. I stopped celebrating my birthday when I was 14, when my family moved to a different city and I didn’t feel like I had made any real friends. I did try to have a small party when I was 20, but most of the people I invited did not attend, including the people I was living with, which of course just strengthened the belief that I was not worthy of celebration. 

Today, I have invited two work colleagues to eat dinner with me. It’s not much, but it’s a step towards believing that maybe I’m ok.