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I Used to Hate My Birthday

I have not had the best birthdays and I used to be so upset about it until my 40th Birthday. I am not quite sure what about that birthday changed my perspective, but it did.


I just celebrated my 41st Birthday on Monday. It was not the most spectacularly celebrated birthday. However, I got what I wanted. First, I was not sure I would have all of my daughters with me to celebrate my birthday, but I did. My second oldest drove my oldest down a few days prior to spend some time with me. Also, I thought I was going to spend the day of alone and I planned to do so with a carefully crafted schedule to ensure I did not get sad. It's a coping skill I mastered through researching self-care for when my daughter is away for the summer. Then, I received a message from a friend "Good morning honey!!! Happy Birthday!!! Let me take you to lunch today." I scrapped my plans and oh boy was it a hot mess trying to meet up, but we did it! It was the best Denny's lunch I have ever had.


But, why did I used to hate my birthday?

As far back as I can remember, my birthday has sucked. The first birthday I can remember was a sleepover I had in the 4th or 5th grade. It was the first time I realized I will never fit in. When you are child that doesn't fit in, it is the end of the world. I remember sitting alone crying because the girls I invited were enjoying hanging out with my cousin, whom I was forced to invite, and ignoring me. I remember my mom not being very understanding. I honestly cannot retrieve a remotely happy memory of a birthday until my 16th Birthday, so I am going to skip all that negativity and move forward to that day.


My Sweet 16 was spent in a group home. Not only was I in a group home, I do not remember visits from my family. In addition, a girl and a boy fraternized that day and we were on lock down. I was so upset that I would not be able to spend my birthday with my dude friends on the other hall. But, here is where it gets good. The staff allowed the boys to join us in the girls day-room to sing Happy Birthday and take half my cake, which I wanted to share with them. That was probably the first time I felt like someone cared about what I wanted for my birthday. For so many years I was angry that I spent my 16th Birthday in a group home instead of being grateful that I was surrounded by a staff that adored me enough to bend the rules.

My 17th Birthday started out as a disaster because as a teenager, it's hard to see the good in things sometimes. I had three people show up to my little backyard chill out. Looking back now, that should have been enough. Those were the people I mattered to. One of my friends called two other friends of hers and we sat around BSing. For so many years I looked down on that birthday instead of being grateful for my friend who loved me so much, she called two people I did not know to come spend the afternoon with me.

Every year, my birthday seemed so disappointing for one reason or another. However, what I now realize is my birthdays are just a reflection of where I am in my life. It reflects my friendships,  romantic relationships, who I am as a person, and my priorities. I will never have the birthday like I see on TV because that is not what I value or the intention for my birthday. My birthdays are meant to be a reminder of where and who I am in that moment. I am grateful that my birthday has more significance than a cake, theme, and presents.

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