No, this post is about celebrating my birthday/not celebrating my birthday/feeling like I don't get celebrated at all. Maybe it is a function of age, but I also see people my age having massive blow-outs with friends, and I can literally count on my hand the number of people in my personal life that wish me a happy birthday each year and they are all family. I'm not talking about those pre-made Facebook wishes; I am talking about people who text me or see me and wish me a happy birthday. If people at work know my birthday, then they will also wish me a happy birthday.
Last year, I purposefully turned off my birthday on Facebook to see who actually knew it was my birthday. Yes, it was a trap for me to prove that people don't actually know me. I got a text from two people, one work birthday month twin and one from across the ocean. I still had a few Facebook birthday wishes since my mother made a post and actually, so did I. I forgot that Livewell, my gym, gives you a free smoothie if you go to the gym on your birthday so of course I have to post my birthday smoothie.
But this isn't about Facebook wishes or texts. This is about celebration. I love my husband but he is the worst about celebrating anything. He doesn't do Valentine's day or anyone's birthday. Like he forgets everyone equally and I suspect most wives would say that about their husbands. There is a reason the husband running about at the last minute for birthday/Christmas/anniversary gifts is a trope.
I think this is where a woman's friends come in. Someone in her circle makes sure to try and go for a celebration coffee or drink. That is what I haven't had for a long time.
As I was turning 40, I decided that I would finally run a marathon. My thought was if I start my 40s with a marathon, then all of my birthdays in my 40s had to be better than that. So I did run a marathon in the Texas heat; it was over 90 degrees by the time I was done. I didn't think any birthday could be as bad as finishing a road marathon on black pavement but I was so wrong!
My worst birthday was my 45th. My dad was in the hospital somewhere between life and death. He wished me a happy birthday and told me he was ready to die if it was his time. I think I had over 100 Facebook wishes that year. My husband actually took me for rolled ice cream to celebrate my birthday since there was a shop not too far from the hospital. It is hard to think about yummy rolled ice-cream when your dad is on death's door. He came home a week later. Crisis averted, new birthday trauma level achieved.
I am writing about the past to vomit it out once and for all. The "friends" who never called. The "friend" who took me for coffee only to leave me halfway through to go talk to a real friend of theirs. The "friend" who gave me a present months after my birthday but never actually wished me a happy birthday.
Why the word vomit? Well, my life is so different today than one year ago. Since my last birthday, I feel like I actually have friends who care about me and who might actually celebrate me if given an opportunity. See, just about a month after my birthday, I joined the Pride Alliance of Lufkin (PAL). It is a group of people that I absolutely adore. I have since joined the board and even hold the distinction of founding member for my work as Treasurer. There are some long days of planning and executing, but much like my job, I love it, and seeing the impact in the community makes it all worth it.
Back in January, I started my journey to join Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc. I crossed at the end of February with six amazing sisters as a member of the ChoZen Seven. The love and sisterhood I feel each and every day is not really possible to describe in words. It is a glowy and spirit-filling kind of sisterhood.
Honestly, both groups give me a sense of love and celebration that I haven't felt in years. So I'm turning my birthday back on Facebook, if I can figure it out (it was such a pain to figure out how to turn off). While maybe no one will call me or text me this year either, I feel like I have enough distance from my 45th birthday that I can risk that disappointment. My birthday is on a Tuesday this year and the weekend before my birthday, I'm in Virginia. While the majority of that trip is for work, I have actually scheduled myself a couple of days with my friend from college. A couple of days with a person who loves me despite all of my bullshit (and she knows all of it since we have been friends for almost 30 years) and time in the Blue Ridge Mountains. As I slide into my 50s, here is hoping I learn to celebrate myself since external celebrations are in short supply for most people. May the lessons of the last 46 years not turn me bitter but help me be a better person. So here's to turning 47!
