But one thing I generally don't love is birthdays. Well, not all birthdays. Just mine.
I've always felt this huge pressure to have a good time, and when I was a kid, having a good time was directly linked to how many friends came to your party. Truth be told, I've got the feeling that I didn't have a party for quite a few of my childhood birthdays, and the couple of parties I remember having were not all that successful.
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When I was 6 (?) I was living in Balhannah in the Adelaide Hills. After moving from Sydney halfway through the previous year, this was my second year in a row in a new school, and I had only a couple of months to make some friends for my April birthday. Being during the school holidays, my sister had the fun of her best friend visiting from Sydney, and I have the vague feeling I resented that. A lot.
I always looked up to my sister, even though I was a right royal shit to her for the better part of my childhood years. And even though we are 5 years apart, I wanted to be just like her, and I thought I was her equal.
But on my 6th birthday, my sister had the audacity to have HER friend over from Sydney, someone who was much cooler than me, and was like all interesting and foreign. And someone with whom she'd rather spend time than me.
On my 6th birthday, I felt discarded by my sister. So what did I do?
I bit her.
That's right, I bit my sister right on the forearm because she wouldn't let me play with her and her friend.
Now, I can't remember what happened to all my other "friends" at the party after that happened, because I was punished relatively severely (let's just say I was told if I acted like a dog I would be treated like one - a fact that is still brought up in conversation from time to time, though thankfully my sister has forgiven me for it).
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So, I hope you can now understand just a little of why I generally don't like birthdays. They were generally a torturous experience with me worrying that no one would come to my party (if I had one) and then if they did came that they would not like me anyway. Some pretty severe teasing at my 8th birthday party cemented my fear & loathing of those enforced social gatherings.
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Now, I am sure I started writing this with a point in mind, but somewhere in the last 30-odd hours (since I started it) I have misplaced it.
Oh yeah, that's right. I hate my birthday... Not only is there terrible pressure on me to have fun, and the expectation that people will like me more on my birthday (wtf?), and I have always thought that without heaps of people around, without a party and loads of "friends", my birthday is a non-event, and should be treated as such. This is brought home even more now that I live at least 2,500 km from most of the people I love.
Luckily, I've learnt over time that birthdays are just like any other day. Sure you get cake, and presents, but I am still me, and I am not measured by how many friends I have or how many people come to wish me a happy birthday.
The people that I love, that make each day that much more special, that give me purpose and drive, that support and cherish me, and that I am honoured to have in my life - they are with me every day, regardless of whether it's my birthday or not. And regardless of how far away we are physically apart. The important people, the ones that I live and love for, they really come through for me every day. Including April 24.
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I guess what I am trying to say, is that as much as I dread this day, I love how my beautiful family & friends gather round to say, 'Hey, it's ok. Even though we might not be there in person, we miss you and love you and want you to have a great day.'
Thankyou, you wonderful special people (you know who you are) for making this day fantastic, and reminding me just how lucky I am to have you in my life.
<3
