Birthday Spiral
Its My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To
Oh the birthday blues. Something I’m sure that is as old as birthdays themself. The melancholy of growing older, and celebrating another year of life. This is alway a time of contemplation. With life comes death, and maybe this is dramatic for a birthday, but remembering a birth does bring up death. A few days ago, I wrote a list of people that I know that have died since 2020. It was at least one person for every year.
Perhaps we cry on birthdays because we are reflecting on our mortality. Maybe we cry because we have outlived so many others. Maybe we cry because we are afraid of what the next year has in store. Maybe we cry because we’re so grateful and happy to be around people we love, because the plants are alive, the sun rises everyday, and we get to take a sweet breath of life every, single, day.
Star of the Show
Every day, we have so many things to focus on. Different things to do, interacting with other people, going to work, and we don’t get a ton of time to just sit back, relax, and focus on the star of the show- yourself. When your birthday rolls around, all eyes are on you. We can have different expectations for this day, be them good or bad. Do you like to have a big party for your birthday? Or just celebrating with a few people?
I prefer a few people. One of my favorite things to do on my birthday is make rounds with my friends. Breakfast with someone, lunch with someone else, and dinner with another person. I have deep relationships and friendships, but get overwhelemed by bigger groups of people. It seems like work. If there is something I don’t want on my birthday, is something to feel like work.
The Art of The Birthday
These delicate days have years to take form. From a young age, we are given the preconceived notion of what to expect from a birthday. The kids who never had parties or cake, or the kids who had a birthday party and no one showed up. The politics of young birthdays. Children aren’t given much choice how to celebrate. One of the treats of getting older, if you realize the patterns you have around certain holidays and your birthday.
You get comfortable (maybe) telling people no, or what you do and don’t like. Its the one day of the year where youre “allowed” to be selfish. You figure out yourself, and maybe a reason this day can be so triggering, is that when you try and think about what you actually want- you really have no clue.
Who Am I?
About a week before my birthday, without fail- I go into something I call the Birthday Spiral. I start questioning everything . Maybe this is good? It’s like my biological clock screeches to a halt to check in on what the fuck we are do. Are we going in a direction we want? What patterns are we repeating? What patterns do we want to repeat? What patterns do we to want to repeat?
Because I’ve been reacting to my birthdays like this for almost as long as i can remember, it almost seems counter intuitive to celebrate. It seems like a quiet time, something reflective and poignant. However, I always get really horny around my birthday. So- maybe just existential thoughts and kinky sex.