Birthday Blues

What I spent birthday money on: a few books to help me be a better writer from The Last Word Bookshop and a delicious brunch at Manakeesh .

This week I turned 23. Up until 21, I looked to each birthday with excitement. With each additional year, I gained more freedom and responsibility. At 16, a drivers license came; at 18, legal adulthood; and at 21, no more need for fake IDs. Now that I've passed all the ages of restriction, nothing special comes with birthdays except another year closer to my inevitable yet unknown expiration date. Is it weird to think about that at 23?

Perhaps a part of my lack of enthusiasm for my birthday comes from being a mom. Merle and I share the same birth month and long before I gave a thought to my own birthday plans, I was planning Merle's party. My birthday just doesn't matter as much any more. I think part of it also comes from the fact that I'm isolated from most of college friends. Birthdays used to mean wild nights and elegant dinners, but now they are treated the same as any other weekday. There is no room in our packed schedules for celebrations. Is this what birthdays will be like from here on out? Only time will tell.

No comments:

Post a Comment