When did I start making a big deal out of birthdays? Clearly, I didn't in the past. Was it because my situation changed? Is it because I am now in a relationship? And now I think I have the privilege of having someone who would consider celebrating it. But what does it mean if the other party is not so keen? This year’s birthday may have been a sad one on reflection, not because anything dramatic happened, but because I set myself up with hopes of a meaningful celebration. And then reality stepped in and reminded me: not everyone sees the day the way I do.
I was excited, maybe a little too much for my own good. Since I’m not someone who likes surprises, I thought I’d make things easier for everyone. I picked the dinner spot. I even hinted at the gift I wanted. In my head, it seemed simple and fair—like sending out a polite birthday memo in advance. That way, no one would have to guess, and things are clear in advance.
But it didn’t work out that way.
Yes, we went out to dinner. Yes, the food was good. Yes, the restaurant was exactly the one I wanted. But the atmosphere was off. The other party spent much of the evening on the phone, detached, as if they’d rather be somewhere else. Meaningful conversations? Well, none of that. Sitting in a place I’d chosen, eating food I liked, and yet feeling like I imposed this situation on a person who would rather be somewhere else.
Then there was the gift—or the absence of it. I brought it up, more than once, like a broken record. Who demands gifts on their birthday? Apparently, me. For days, I carried on about it, half in jest, half in disappointment. But when the noise in my head finally quieted, realization dawned: isn't gift giving or not giving the prerogative of the other person? In my head I was translating the gesture of gift giving to consideration or regards for the other person. I may been wrong. On a grand scale. My insistence began to feel entitled, and with that came shame. I feel foolish now.
Looking back, the whole thing feels sad in its way. I staged my own birthday like an orchestrator, only to realize that the other party didn’t share my enthusiasm. For him, it was just another day. For me, it was supposed to be a day when I get all the attention. And that’s where I went wrong—expecting others to hold the same weight in their hearts as I did in mine.
Perhaps the lesson is simple: if I want my birthday to feel special, I need to make it special for myself. And if it's a gift I want, maybe I should gift it myself. A moment of gratitude for making it through another year.
So in future, no memos, no scripts, no quiet hopes that others might guess the unspoken. Just me, showing up for myself in the way I know I will. And maybe, that will be enough.
