My birthday is in seven days. It
seems like it’s really speeding towards me this year, palm open and ready to
slap me across the face. Last year I turned 26, and I wasn’t dreading it so
much as I am this year.
It’s not the getting older thing
that bothers me. It’s the odd number thing. 27 just doesn’t have a very nice
sound to it.
“Oh yeah, cool, I’m 27.” Said no one ever.
Pffft.
I’ve never really been one for
celebrating my birthday. It was usually just an occasion for someone to make me
feel terrible, and sink me into a dark depression for at least a week.
As a kid, I used to hide under the
table when everyone would try to sing Happy Birthday to me. Or worse, when
everyone’s attention was drawn to me to unwrap all the gifts. What if I got a
shitty gift? I’d have to hide the shattering of my little child heart and
pretend like I was oh so happy to receive pink fuzzy socks. That hasn’t really
changed in adulthood. I hate opening presents in front of people.
I don’t like being the center of
attention, I’m more of an avid onlooker that sits back and takes it all in.
Forming a good story or silently judging the idiots making fools of themselves.
The only time in my life I started to
really enjoy my birthday was when I started dating Kh. I’ve had 2 birthdays
with her, and each year she makes them pretty great. I get sucked into some
kind of birthday obligation that involves hanging out with friends that make me
feel miserable the day of my birthday, and Kh always plans a “make up
birthday”, the day after. It usually just involves me doing whatever I want and
her supporting me with my decision. If I wanted to lie in bed eating ice cream
cake and watching Harry Potter all day, she’d be there to change DVDs for me.
True love, that shits for real.
I’m hoping this is the one birthday
that afterwards I wake up and feel like an adult on. When I turned 20, I
thought 21 would bring a newfound clarity on adulthood and life. When I turned
25, I thought it would be 26. And so on.
Well. Perhaps this is the birthday when
others start thinking I’m an adult.
While I know it’s not your age that
determines adulthood, I’m still waiting for that “a-ha!” moment. I mean, I’m ok
with going on with life always feeling like I’m 21. I’d say 16 but I need to be
able to legally drink in my own mind, right? And these lines on my face weren't there when I was 16.
And my butt wasn't quite as wide as it is now.
And my boobs weren't nearly this awesome.I'm sure I'll have more birthday posts this week. For now, shhh.. it's not this close..
xo
I second everything about this post. Particularly the part about opening presents in front of other people--I'd rather melt through the floor after being set on fire. Mine's (exactly) two weeks away and your comment in the previous post about wanting your birthday to make a graceful exit rang so true with me! I hope yours is everything you want it to be and more :-)
ReplyDeleteyes! burning alive is one of my fears, but i'd rather do that then open presents in front of people. har.. I'll be sending you good birthday vibes if you send them my way too. March 31st?
DeleteI love how you write about little awesome things with you and Kh. That is some real love, yo. I'm 32. Trust me: the ah-ha! moment - I don't think it ever comes. I still feel like I'm 26. Except I've moved on from the douchenuggets I was so enamored with at the time. Which is good.
ReplyDeleteI'm pretty sure it's real love, just don't tell her that. (I kid) I'm glad you've moved on from the douchenuggets - they, i'm sure, gave you indigestion ;) I think the general feeling with most people is the ah-ha moment is something that doesn't exist for most. hollywood propaganda bs.
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