The anti-birthday argument

In the last year, I decided that while I have no issues with aging, I don't see the point in acknowledging or celebrating my actual birthday.  It used to be something I looked forward to, but inevitably that excitement would be dashed by an unfortunate reminder that I am not terribly special to the people who are most special to me.  I was used to disappointing birthdays as a child, but I assumed that as I got older it would get better. I could throw my own parties and people would join in celebration.  That did happen on occasion, but it was marred by years when one or another of my parents would forget, or my hubs and I would argue, or my kids would be buttheads, or a good friend would be MIA.  After awhile, it stopped being fun and started becoming a trigger to an annual bout of depression.  Thus, I declared that this year we would treat "my" day as any other.  No expectations of special treatment, no free coffees from Dutch Bros, no well wishes.  Pretend it is just a regular day, because it is.

At this point, I can sense all the eye rolls.  I can feel the judgement from folks who think this is a ploy for attention or a woe-is-me moment that will pass when I'm feeling better.  To that, I say: FUCK YOU.  I genuinely prefer to age without a designated day where people feel obligated to say nice things to me or give me gifts.  It all makes me uncomfortable.  Yes, part of it is rooted in a history of let-downs and sadness, but that's a minute portion.  I have also had some incredible celebrations that I hold near and dear to my heart and remember fondly.  I honestly just don't see the point in having a birthday.  I am still going to age.  It's not like I am trying to deny that fact, or even impede it in any way.  Each year I get to experience life at a new level.  This year, I'm on level 38.

In all my level 38 wisdom, I can see that a lot of folks wish others a happy birthday out of obligation and not out of honest-to-goodness affection.  It is a chore.  Something we do because we feel bad if we don't.  My feeling is that if I am loved, love me every day.  If I am appreciated, appreciate me every day.  Or at least, in the moment.  Don't wait for a set date to give me some half-assed clap on the back.  Tell me when you feel compelled to; not when you're forced.  This holds especially true for those who can't be bothered to say hello any other day of the year, but then pop out of their rabbit hole for a quick, empty congratulatory statement before retreating back into their regular life.  It feels gross and I want no part of it.

So call it whatever you want.  Judge it and pick it apart and make jokes.  Ignore my request and brush it off as if it's just a part of the dark and twisty funk I have found myself in these past few months.  I can't control how you react; I can only state how I feel and hope that those who truly care for me will be supportive.