helloooooo everyone!
That’s right, folks! It’s my party and I’ll write about death if I want to!
No but really… despite the title of today’s post, I truly love celebrating my/your/that random stranger’s birthday. Some people may call it ~being extra~ but I prefer: ~being keenly aware of the fact that the one guarantee we ALL have in common is that we’re only here (at least in these bodily forms) for a finite amount of time, so why wouldn’t we celebrate every year we’re still kickin’ like the big fucking deal it is?~
And while I am always game for any reason to throw a shindig, since having a baby (correction: since pushing an 8+ pound human out of my vagina) birthdays have become an EVEN BIGGER deal for me. Because the way I see it, our birthdays are really about the mothers/parents/caregivers in our lives who went through a huge life transition + journey to bring us into this world (one way or another) and keep us alive all these years. So today, I am BOWING DOWN to my mom for giving birth to me on this beautiful day, 32 years ago. And sure sure, on average 250 babies are born every minute, but if you ask me, each one of those babies is a freaking miracle.
Now don’t get me wrong. Birthdays can also feel extremely stressful. Every year, I typically cry at least twice on my birthday, and three times if it’s a particularly *big* year. There are so many anxious thoughts involved with birthdays, like:
I’m one year closer to my guaranteed death. cool cool cool.
If I’m one year closer to my guaranteed death, that means that everyone around me (especially those older than me) are also one year closer to their guaranteed deaths. COOL COOL COOL.
I want to throw a party but I’m nervous to put myself out there and risk rejection/embarrassment/feeling let down-ness
Okay now I’m throwing the party, why isn’t anyone here yet? Everyone’s past being fashionably late, it’s just rude at this point. Do I even have any friends?
Am I worthy of love?
What the hell am I doing with my life?
I’ve accomplished so much, but I still feel really unfulfilled.
My relationships with many people in my life feel strained and now I need to respond to their obligatory, generic birthday text so they continue sending me obligatory, generic birthday texts once a year.
My birthday is reminding me of all the people who are no longer in my life - for one reason or another. And that’s a really unpleasant thought.
What is love? Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more.
Does anyone out there care about me, really?
Am I being too much for hoping that others care about me? For caring about myself?
I don’t have any profound solutions to curbing these anxious thoughts. Sorry. But what I will say is, I really do believe in the power of killing em with kindness. So when I’m feeling extra in my feels, especially on my birthday, I will take a moment for a deep breath and repeat one (or all) of these mantras:
You are inherently worthy of love.
Joy is your birthright.
Those who don’t get you are not meant for you.
You are a freaking miracle.
Happy Birthday to me - to us - in all our miraculous forms.
love,
Jesse