Birthday Blues

I turn 24 this week. Gosh, I feel old. I know that I'm not as old as the others, but that also means I'm not as young as the others either. Here’s my thing with my birthday: I hate it. Truthfully, I probably had nice birthdays growing up, but most of what I remember seemed forced. Like people had better places to be. I do this thing where I don’t tell people my birthday, I just say that it’s in March or I tell them the day after. And they beg and beg me to tell them, so I do the week or so before. But then they forget, which is the whole reason I don't tell people. It’s always forgotten. Why get my hopes up that you’d remember when you don’t? Why beg to know when it’s not actually important to you? Why hurt me more?

When it comes to my family- no they didn’t do awfully- but they didn’t do well. I had this fear growing up that since it was tax season my father would be too busy with work to remember. I spent birthdays in wonder watching the door. I also almost always ended up crying, sometimes because the wonder got too much, but also because my family tended to fight at the dinner table. I would get up and go to my room and cry. Why couldn't we be happy on my birthday? Why do we always fight?

My mother always cooks us our preferred meals, mine is chicken cutlets, steamed carrots with butter and cinnamon, broccoli rabe, and pasta.Two years ago, I asked for breakfast for dinner, it was my 22nd birthday and my whole family worked to make it amazing since covid ruined my 21st completely. It might be the most memorable birthday I’ve had yet. This year I'm having my favorite pizza. I also want lobster, however, I don't like asking for expensive things. I ask for gifts every year; some are big, some small, I give them links and all the information hoping to be surprised. Sometimes, they don’t get me what I want, sometimes they forget, or tell me what they are getting me before the day comes. I'd like to say that that’s okay, but it’s also hurtful when I make sure to get them what is on their list even when I have no money and to always surprise them. This year, I just want to have a good day.

As for friends, well, they change every year. One friend already got me a studded belt, another is in charge of getting me a weighted blanket. My best friend, I asked him to have my nephews sing me happy birthday over video, as they live so far and I haven't seen them in years, but they are young and don’t understand. A new friend, who guessed 100 times trying to get my birthday date, said he’d try to get me a pocket knife. A friend, two years ago, got me my first pride flag. Most people get me trinkets, or buy me candy, or alcohol. Honestly, sometimes all I want is a letter, explaining why they choose me to be in their life, to be their friend. A hand written one. I’m not much for festivities so I don't care much for a party but a gathering with some friends would be nice, too. I was trying to go out with friends this year, but it’s not in the stars to do so.

Maybe I don’t fully hate my birthday, but it’s one of those days you are so excited for, but also so, so nervous. What if people forget again? What if I don’t get a calm family meal? What if I don’t get the right gift for my mom? Yes, I gift my mom presents on my birthday. Partially, because she's my mom, but mostly because my birth story isn’t an easy one- we both could have died that day. The truth about aging is that life keeps getting hard. The days are blurring, and you have to deal with life on your own with all its hardships. But if I’m thankful for one thing, it’s that at least every year on my birthday, I've made it this far. I could've given up a long time ago, I wanted to. But I keep telling myself to keep going another year, and almost 365 days later, another year has passed, and I made it even further.