Someone asked me today why I don’t like celebrating my birthday. I wasn’t really able to answer them fully because it’s a much longer, more in depth and vulnerable conversation then appropriate for work. It got me wondering and thinking about why I really don’t enjoy celebrating my birthday anymore.
I turn 29 this month on June 15th. No I don’t think I’m having any sort of mid life crisis. It stems from within. It all started from the day that I was born. Celebrating my birthday has always been a blast. Every year I could count on one thing carrot cake! And usually the trick candles because my mom thought it was hilarious.
As I got older birthdays changed for me. I stopped celebrating them for a few of my teen years up until I turned 21. The alcoholic I am today did not start when I was 21. In fact I didn’t even drink on my 21st birthday. Instead I went out on a Sunday for a ride in the mountains. This day I will always remember for two reasons. First because it was so hot my friends abandoned me midway through the trails, it was 116°. Secondly because near the end of my ride I cornered a mountain lion and nearly shit my pants.
As an adult birthdays are just an excuse to throw a party. At least for me that’s what they are. A few years back my mom said something that totally changed my perspective on my life. She said, “when Josh was born all I could see was the Devil in his eyes.”
I guess sometimes I’m very unemotional and I just suppress everything. That’s exactly what I did with this, except it changed how I viewed my birthday. I just can’t get over the fact that if my own mother wasn’t happy with my birth how can I celebrate it?
I must say my wife has done so much these past few years to make me completely forget about why I don’t want to celebrate my birthday. Fortunately for me this year my birthday falls in father’s day. So I’ll get to celebrate the guys in my life that have made the most positive influence on my life.