Why I Love (and Hate) Birthdays

Photo Credit: cakepict.com

Photo Credit: cakepict.com

As another year comes to a close, there’s a Baby New Year celebrating a birthday.  And so is the author of this particular blog post.

I was born Amanda Christina Norman at 8:48am on December 31st, 1989 with no idea how rough yet wonderful it will be to be born on such a day.  (My under-developed kid brain honestly thought the fireworks and ball-dropping were all for me, which didn’t last long.)  As all of my “holiday birthday buddies” can tell you, sharing your day with other celebrations around you is a bit of a blessing and a curse, but all birthdays have positives and negatives just as the new year in our calendar does.  The scale of emotions here always tips back and forth between the two.  Here are a few reasons for my particular day:

Love: It’s my own little holiday to share with others or by myself.  I do what I WANT on my birthday, mostly because I always have it off to do what I want.  Even if I had to work or stay busy for some reason besides the acknowledgment that I’m still alive for another year, it’s a day I can manipulate in any shape or form I desire.  Usually, it’s on the side of positives like eating too much cake.

Hate: I’m competing with another holiday.  All my birthday parties growing up had to be in January if I ever wanted more than one person showing up because everybody else had plans.  Do I want to go out to dinner?  It’s always packed or impossible to get in wherever I decide to go because of this festive night.  See a movie?  Sure, just like everybody else.  Oh yeah, and there’s a BALL DROPPING AT MIDNIGHT.  I have yet to get in a kiss at midnight with anybody other than a pet or family member in the twenty-now-five years I’ve walked the Earth.

Love: I’m a year older!  The future may be dim but still shines on with all the money mistakes and job woes of years past, so I’ve got another year to muddle through life and ride that wave into as many new chapters as I am dealt.

Hate: I’m a year older.  Please stop aging.  Don’t grow up anymore.  Why is time so hard on me to force me to sag, wrinkle, and creek more and more year after year?

Although my short list ties, I’m struggling more and more with the “love” parts.  I’m not alone in asking myself what the next year will bring, how I’ll get through insert-age-here or insert-big-step-here, and why I’m feeling sicker of this day and what it means as an adult.  Is this year filled with regret, remorse, discontent, or all of the above?  Has my year been all I expected it to be?  Can the next year be better or is it even worth fretting over it all?  Dare I just stuff my face with cake and dive in head first into the unknown?

Whether your birthday is on March 23rd, August 9th, or the July 4th, your day can be either a reflection of your successes or regrets in your failures.  Which will your “new year” bring?  Most of you have the opportunity to do this twice a year for the calendar and day of birth.  I’m stuck with just one big day, so I’ve got a lot to think about.

Happy (or Not So Happy) 2015, y’all!

About Mandy Norman

Mandy is a content manager and designer by day, and crafter/hobby writer/thinker by night. Her relationship with her cat, giraffes, music, and caffeine are borderline unhealthy, but nothing stops her from speaking her mind and “making things look pretty.” She mans two blogs in her spare time, whatmandythinks and whatmandyloves. See All of Mandy's Posts

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