At Karen Sommers Interiors, I’ve always believed that beauty begins with intention. Whether it’s a well-designed room, a well-set table, or a well-lived moment, the meaning is in the details we choose to honor. A birthday is no different. It’s a space we create for ourselves once a year to pause, reflect, and celebrate the simple fact that we are here.

I baked cupcakes yesterday. Not because I needed them or because anyone was coming over or because I wanted to show off a recipe. I baked them because it felt good. There was something about the simple act of creaming butter and sugar together that felt like an ode to myself, a birthday offering of sorts.

Historically, birthdays were never about extravagance. The ancient Greeks baked honey cakes to honor Artemis, little circles of sweetness symbolizing the moon. The Germans introduced the first kinderfests, complete with candles representing each year of life and one for hope. For centuries, birthdays were a humble way to mark that you had made it another trip around the sun, a quiet miracle worthy of simple acknowledgment.

Fast forward to today, and birthdays have become a full-blown production. Balloon arches, custom cakes, professional photographers, and curated color palettes now fill our feeds. It is all very beautiful, but somewhere along the way, we may have mistaken performance for presence. We spend money to prove how loved someone is when, in truth, love doesn’t need to be proven. Love just is.

Yesterday, while icing my own cupcakes, (yes, I even broke out the piping bag and star tip) I realized the best gift I could give myself wasn’t something that could be wrapped or displayed. It was silence. The kind that hushes the inner critic. The voice that always wants to edit, perfect, and improve. My birthday present to myself this year is beyond price. It is the simple act of loving the soul that rests inside me exactly as she is.

So today, on my sixty-first birthday, I am giving myself a full day without self-criticism. Not one negative thought. I’ve had more than enough of those over the years. Even if it is not your birthday, I invite you to try it too. Give yourself an hour of peace. Turn down the volume on the inner commentary. Remember that you are here to learn, not to be perfect, and certainly not to live up to someone else’s idea of perfection.

You are the only person who can truly approve of you. So go ahead and approve of yourself, fully and without hesitation. It may take a few tries or a few thousand, but eventually it creates something extraordinary: ease, grace, and a quiet kind of magic.

Because that, I’ve decided, is what a birthday should really celebrate. The quiet joy of being alive, of being human, and of being exactly who you already are.

And that is always something beautiful to design your life around.