My daughter is already excited for her 8th birthday. She's planning,
enthusiastically making list of the friends she wants to invite, the fun
activities she wants to do, how magical her cake will look and of course: what
presents she is hoping to receive. Her birthday is not until the end of October.
MY birthday is tomorrow. I’ll be 38. Tomorrow!
When do we loose that innocence? I can't even remember when I was last excited about my birthday. I don't think I ever was. What’s up with that? I don’t recall anything traumatic happening as a child. Still, I just never really LOVED celebrating my birthday. No no... I am not being uptight about getting older (although the big 4-0 is approaching rapidly fast now). And, yes, I DO have plenty of fun friends to celebrate with.
I finally know what it is though. Therapist, acupuncturists, alternative healers, psychics, ex-boyfriends… they all told me: I have trouble receiving. Not the actual presents (bring ‘m on!), but the attention. Will you believe I feel slightly guilty that somebody has to take time out of their busy schedule to have a birthday lunch with me. (That suprises you? after reading this?). I always think my friends probably rather go play tennis or have something else much better to do. In fact, I still didn't have my wedding celebration for that same reason. We eloped one day, promising each other we'd throw a big party soon. But the thing is: I believe – if we can all be really honest here for a minute - people see weddings as obligations most of the time. Unless you’re really close to the couple, like your best friend or your sister getting married. But that still leaves many many other guests, like co-workers, friends of your parents, your husbands old high school friends and other vague acquaintances who might be secretly moaning that it will cost them their whole weekend, not to mention a small fortune on gifts, new dress, traveling…NOW you see why I still didn't have my wedding?
Ever since I’m a mother though, I'm more aware. I try to really CELEBRATE my life. I don’t want to pass this ridiculous “don’t worry about me” habit on to her. But the last 3 years, I just can’t seem to be bothered with it. They have all been overshadowed with loss of babies.
Like tomorrow. Am I really supposed to sit up, smile and look pretty while I can barely make it through the days at the moment? My friend lovingly suggested that we’d go have lunch with some girls, have a glass of wine, some laughs. But I can’t. I’m not over my funk yet. I’m in the middle of my funk. Funk seems to be visiting me every birthday now.
I decided I will spend the day alone tomorrow. Don’t feel sorry for me. I choose to. I’m going off island, with no plan whatsoever. I might get my nails done, I might just sit somewhere and write in my diary for hours on end, sipping latte’s, or wine, or skinny water, or all of the above beverages. It’s MY birthday! Or may be I’ll go shopping new spring sandals, even though it still snowed yesterday. I really don’t know. All I know is that I’m looking forward to a day by myself. And if FUNK comes to visit me again, I’ll have to tell her we can no longer be friends. Next year, she is NOT invited!
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