I dreaded my 22nd birthday; I did everything I could to not celebrate, to act like it was just any other day of the year. I signed up for extra projects at my internship, spent 3 hours on a work call with my manager, and spent nearly the full day at the office. The night before, I was sending out work from my apartment at 11:45pm, trying to delay the low key birthday hangout my best friend had invited me to at a bar with her boyfriend. Never mind the fact that it was a long weekend. I wanted it to come and go as smoothly as possible; no pompous would mean no traumatizing consequences.
This was because my 21st birthday was one of the worst days of my life. Since I had a little too much to drink at my party, my friend kicked me out of her apartment where I was crashing for the weekend. She spread rumors amongst our friends that I had liver failure because I was a raging alcoholic. I was 21, silly and young; I had spent a year-and-a-half away from my friends during a gap year, and it had been my dream since freshman year to get a bit tipsy at a speakeasy on my 21st. When she kicked me out and called me an awful friend, I tried to act as cool as possible but I felt like I was crumbling. I hated myself. I didn't know who I was. And most of all, I wish I had never turned 21 at all. I wish I had just sat at home and avoided all of this crazy celebration, celebrations that led to one of the most miserable feelings I have ever felt in my life: rejection from friends who I thought mattered the most to me after being away from everyone for over two years during COVID and my gap year. I called up a friend, sobbing, telling her how much I wished I was dead. I felt lost. Rejected by the world. Worthless. A burden to people around me. A needy kid who took everything the world had given her for granted. A piece of shit.
I want to one day be able to celebrate my birthday and feel like I deserve the cake, the candles, the people singing, the friends sending me "happy birthday" over text. Because a birthday is the day the world reminds a person that they matter. That they would notice if that person suddenly vanished in thin air. That they believe a person's life is worthwhile, deserving of celebration. Sure, the concept of a year is arbitrary and so is the idea of a birthday. But I think every one of us needs a special day, one where people show us that we matter, that we are loved for who we are, that we are special. Think about Remembrance day; it exists "lest we forget" the sacrifice of the heroes that came before us. A birthday exists lest we forget the value of somebody's life, lest we forget the gratitude we might feel that the person lived for another year, that they fought to live this life, however difficult it may get at times.
I still struggle to celebrate my own birthday, but I'm trying to change that mindset by prioritizing the birthdays of people who matter in my life. My family, my friends. They deserve the fanciest cakes, the most special happy birthday songs, the surprise gifts. I think about the 21st birthday I had been anticipating since I first shopped at Forever 21 at age 8. The flowers, the music, the laughter. It's one of the most beautiful things ever; at least once a year, everyone deserves to feel like they are the most precious thing ever.
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