February 20

By Alexia Cretoiu

February 20, 2026

Image Courtesy: Pinterest

For a long time, February 20 was just a birthday. A date that lived quietly on calendars and cards. I didn’t realize it would become a marker in my life, a strange thread tying together people who would shape me in different ways.

A few years ago, I found it surreal that three of the most important people in my world shared the same birthday: my mom, a best friend, and the person I loved. At the time, it felt symbolic, almost poetic, like the universe was telling me something about connection, about timing, about fate. I didn’t yet understand that the coincidence wasn’t meant to last.

Some people enter your life because you are close in proximity, because you are lonely in the same season, because you are both searching for something familiar. You try to build meaning from shared time, even when you don’t fully align. Others arrive carrying deeper emotions, teaching you what it feels like to open your heart, to be vulnerable, to imagine a future with someone. And then, sometimes quietly and sometimes painfully, they leave.

What I’ve learned is that some people are meant to ride with you for a few stops. They don’t stay for the entire journey, but they matter all the same. They reflect parts of you back to yourself, your capacity to love, your tendency to settle, your fear of being alone, your ability to grow. They show you what you need and what you don’t, what you’re willing to accept, and what you deserve. Even after they’re gone, their impact lingers. They shape your boundaries. They soften you or strengthen you. They leave behind lessons that become woven into who you are, even if they don’t stay long enough to see the person you become afterward.

And then there are the constants.

My mom was also born on February 20, but unlike everyone else, she never left. She has been there through every version of me, the confused teenager, the hopeful senior, the heartbroken college sophomore learning how to carry loss and keep moving. She is the one person I never have to pretend with. The one person who knows every chapter of my story and still chooses me. She has watched me grow, fail, heal, and try again, always steady, always present.

Now, February 20 feels different.

Two people who once held so much space in my life are no longer here. One faded away. One broke my heart. One remains, unwavering. What once felt like a cosmic coincidence now feels like a quiet lesson in impermanence and love.

Not every connection is meant to last forever. Some exist to teach you something, to walk beside you briefly, to help you understand yourself more deeply. The people who are meant to stay will stay. They become your anchor when everything else shifts.

February 20 taught me that life keeps moving, even when people don’t move with you, and that the real miracle isn’t who comes and goes, but who remains.

Happy birthday to my mother, my armor, and my entire world. Thank you for being my constant, my safe place, and my greatest strength. I truly wouldn’t be here without you, your love has carried me through every version of myself. I am endlessly grateful for you, today and always. 

© 2026 alexiacretoiu