I have not had a history of good birthdays. Pre-18 most of them were either screamingly awful in every way or at least had some drama that soured them. 19 I spent with Anna. She brought me flowers and a balloon and took me to dinner. That was one of my best birthdays ever. 20 consisted of Anna and Tom giving me flowers and taking me to dinner. That was a pretty decent birthday. 21 was the temper tantrum Anna threw at BaGG because going reminded her of her own abuse history. 22 was totally ignored because we were going on a trip later that month. (Uhm… it’s for your birthday! Yeah! Oh, I was planning it anyway… oh well. Don’t get me wrong. The trip was awesome.) 23 was the awkward birthday party that Tom hosted after I broke up with him. Right. It was a good birthday party but so strangely uncomfortable. 24 I woke up and spent the morning crying because I knew Puppy wanted to break up with me. Then I spent the day watching Noah and his then girlfriend and feeling jealous with no way to express that. heh. 25 was mostly ignored.
My birthday is destined to go poorly. It just seems to be fate. I desperately wish that weren’t true, but due to circumstances beyond my control and having weird feelings about the event I don’t think I am capable of enjoying a birthday. I want to do something, but I don’t know what. Noah has suggested trips but I’m stupid and petty and my response is, “Oh yeah! Let’s duplicate that trip you took with how many ex girlfriends?!” I know I shouldn’t react that way. I don’t seem to be able to stop though.
I wish I knew what I wanted. If I knew what I wanted I could at least ask for it and hope to get it. But I don’t know. So I sit here and think–ok, Monday is another birthday. What did I accomplish in the last 12 months? I survived my first year of marriage without making him hate me. Woo hoo!! That is a big one. I painted my house. I survived teaching full time. But I still feel like something is missing. I feel like I am failing in some big, painfully obvious way because there is something I want and don’t seem to be able to have.
I hate my birthday.
um… *hugs*?
So don’t celebrate it. You won’t be the only one who doesn’t celebrate their birthday.
But, while you’re in the neighborhood, try to have a happy Monday.
Good luck.
I’m with
The best thing I ever did for my birthdays was to forget about trying to make it something super-special, and just do what I could to ensure I had a really nice day. I think our society has encouraged overblown expectations for birthdays, and so there’s a lot of disappointment when something goes wrong, or a coveted gift doesn’t turn up. These days, I just try to relax, maybe get some time out in my shop, maybe take a couple friends out to dinner. Party? Whatever, I’m kind of a hermit anyways. Gifts? Nice when they arrive, but not expected and so never disappointing. 🙂 Just another perspective to consider.
*hugs* I love you.
I like celebrating birthdays, and I wish you didn’t have baggage about yours.
If you’re really hating your birthday, the “don’t celebrate” group is right.
If you’re hating the baggage but wanting to like the birthday, select something neither you nor Noah has done to celebrate your birthday – like if you’ve never had a Chevy’s birthday with the sombrero, go for something that simple.
best luck!
I can’t believe you were only 23 (? or younger?) when I met you. Somehow I just never connected those dots, it’s like time has stopped or something.
I get this – oh so much. I thought I was going to throw the baggage aside for my 30th birthday and it was blown to hell by much drama with the kid.
I did have a nice dinner out the year prior, 29 I guess, where I just told people – “this is where I’ll be”. I was kind of shocked and speechless by how many people showed up for a lovely and low maintenance dinner.
I vote for a girly spa day, followed by decadent DECADENT dessert out , like .. main course dessert. Then great sex, of course.
Maybe I’m selfishly just projecting, but aren’t we all. 🙂
I tend to try to forget mine. Am seriously happy if someone remembers and expect my dad to not only forget but run roughshod over it.
Every member of my family BUT me get their birthday celebrated to the max, mine they as often as not forget it, or if I do plan something they screw it up.
i hear you loud and clear, pal.
i despise my birthday, too.
my older brother and i shared ours since 1 was born the same day,
2 years later.
when i was a kid
i would’ve given anything not to share it.
now that he’s gone.
i would give anything to share it.
now that i’m a grown-up
i basically ignore them.
and it’s all for the best.
though, when i turned the big 5-0,
they had a party for me at work.
i was determined to have an awful time.
but, you know what?
everyone was so nice and honestly kind that i had to enjoy it.
bastards proved me wrong.
i would say that my worst b-day was my 16th.
when my mom threw a surprise party for me
that i knew was coming 2 weeks in advance.
she invited all my friends.
except, they were the people she *thought* were my friends.
but none of them were.
i still get goose-flesh thinking about it.
the one a week before my dad died wasn’t much fun.
and the one a few months after my brother’s death was no picinic.
but the one on the 16th takes the (birthday) cake.
for sure.