It’s my birthday, and I hate it, and here’s why
If you announce “I don’t like my birthday,” everyone is quick to assume that something tragic happened on the day you were born — because seriously, how could anyone not like their birthday? What kind of grinch doesn’t want to celebrate they day they came into this beautiful world? Who would dare turn down the opportunity to get presents, cake, and a surplus of Facebook notifications?
I don’t know when it truly happened, but somewhere between the time I was born and right now, I came to dislike my birthday. If I have to put a date on it, I’m going to go with my 4th birthday. I was horribly sick, but my mother had rented a clown (his name was Presto) and he had a bunny (the bunny’s name was Butterstotch) and I was having 20 four-year-olds over to the house to hang out with me (I am currently not on speaking terms with any one of these birthday party invitees of yesteryear).
Looking back on pictures of this day decades later, I'm like, "Yup, this proves it. Birthdays's suck."
Now fast foward a decade or two, I’ve come to realize that I just do not like my birthday. I’ve slowly started figuring out the reasons. Here are a few:
1. I never know what to do for my birthday.
It’s just understood that on my birthday I’m, you know, the birthday girl, so I get to decided what to do and where we go and who’s invited. Only thing is that there’s this tiny voice in the back of my head that’s like “None of your friends want to go out to that restaurant, because they hate it, so if you invite them all there, none of them will show up.”
But like, I don’t even just WANT to go out for dinner for my birthday. If it’s my day, and I get to choose, I want to stay inside my apartment all day and not put on a bra and just like, order in pizza. I guess everyone is invited to that…?
2. There is no way in hell I am throwing MYSELF a party.
Oh gosh, I can barely handle going over to a friends place for a party that they’re throwing, so how am I supposed to handle inviting 20 acquaintances into my tiny apartment? And then having to clean up after them? And what happens if someone accidentally gets chocolate on their pants, and then sits on my couch, and smears chocolate all over my couch, and like, I have to deal with that. And I’m sorry, I’m just not going to.
3. I don’t even know WHO to invite to the party I’m (not) throwing.
My birthday is in the fall. Back in elementary school, we would have been in school for like three-ish weeks at this point. That’s too soon to decide who is and isn’t going to be my friend for the entire year, and every. year. when it came time to send out birthday party invitations I just panicked. This has, super conveniently, carried over into adulthood.
4. Surprises terrify me.
I have no pokerface whatsoever. So if I don’t like something immediately, you will be able to tell. Surprise parties, in general, just terrify me. But also, the surprise of getting something I’m not expecting is also hella scary. In short: Opening presents give me anxiety, and what is wrong with me?
5. The expectation to have a good birthday is way too high for a normal human to function.
When I wake up in the morning I have no idea how my day is going to go. Now add on top of that the fact that I’m SUPPOSED to have a good day on my birthday, and that’s like Murphy’s Law with expecting something to go wrong. It’s not even mid-day and I’ve actually already dripped salad dressing on my pants. So…
6. I don’t like all the attention.
I’m one of those people who will quietly sit in the back of an event and pray no one realizes I’m even there in the first place so I can quietly sneak out. I can’t do that if all eyes are on me, and also everyone is trying to talk to me and hug me and, gaaaaahhh. I removed my birthday from Facebook just because I don’t even want that kind of attention on my Wall!
And it’s not that I’m ungrateful for the attention. It’s just A LOT for someone who does not like attention.
7.I legit don’t need presents
IDK, I’m an adult, and when I want something, I go out and buy it. Which means when it comes time for others to buy me presents, it’s like, I already have everything. So whenever someone is like, “What do you want for your birthday?” I’m always just like, “Well, I could use some more allergy pills…” (actually what I asked for this year).
Listen, I totally appreciate the love and kindness that family and friends show me on my birthday, especially when they've gone out of their way to do so. And I love cake, because come on. But no matter what, my birthday just always makes me feel weird, regardless of what I do, or how I celebrate, or who I'm with. Maybe I'll grow out of this one day...but probably not.