When I was younger birthdays were never really that big of a deal. Sometimes my family celebrated, sometimes they didn't - It didn't matter because my parents have always been extremely good at rewarding good grades or doing the random gift thing. Plus I was never a child that wanted for much.
So fast forwarding to adulthood and the juncture of life where I believe growing pains should have ended, I Hate My Birthdays.
Of course I'm thankful for life - I'm very thankful, Thank God, I've seen another year. But that doesn't change the gray cloud that follows me the weeks leading up to the day and remains hovered over my head for weeks after. It's like birthdays are just a reminder of what I haven't accomplished and how closer to death I am.
I mean seriously, it's not like I got balloons, cake and ice cream!!! I got, "girl you almost 30", "you better hurry up have some babies", "when you getting married nah" <--------- SEE WHAT I MEAN
Then - try this on for size: I celebrate my birthday with my grammy. Do I even need to elaborate?? No one cares that I'm turning 20 anything because no matter what my grammy will be turning 80 something. No really!!! I turned 21, Mama turned 81 - 25, yup mathematician you're right, Mama turned 85. LOL one year my family had a party for her I was barely invited to and I think I may have gotten one happy birthday.
I cherished sharing this day with my grammy, in many ways I still do, it made me feel like something special - especially cause I didn't really celebrate- NOW? My selfish side kinda just wanna push that bish back a day or two.
So that's why I hate my birthdays.
But I shouldn't.
All the internal grappling with career or lack there of, anxiety and what ever else should never deter me from enjoying any day with the living. I should enjoy time with AMAZING ppl who makes videos of/for me. I should enjoy time with my grammy who treasures the fact that I was "her gift". I promise next year. I'll be better.
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