Halloween is almost a week away and for me, that means one thing: it’s almost my birthday (I was born on Halloween). Ugh. I love Halloween – in fact, it’s my favorite holiday ever – but I hate my birthday.
I know, I know. I sound like a lame party-pooper who is really boring and hates celebrating things. But hear me out: my birthday always sucks (although Halloween is always great. I don’t know how this is possible, it just is). It’s a mixture of bad luck and my awkward shyness, but it almost never fails that somehow, I will have a bad b-day. So, I’ve started dreading it.
Things weren’t always this way. When I was a little kid, I looked forward to my birthday all year long. Being born on October 31 gave me an advantage over all the other kids: my birthday was automatically cooler and way more fun. My parents were really into Halloween and so they loved throwing my birthday parties. Every year, my dad would create what he called a spook house – he would transform our basement into a scary haunted “house” that was elaborate enough that we could have charged people to get in. I would invite all of my friends over, my parents would buy us each a pumpkin to carve or paint, everyone had to wear a costume, my mom made cakes shaped like ghosts and everyone was given a huge bag of candy at the end of the night. I had the best birthday parties ever.
But when high school started, my friends and I got too old for spook houses and painted pumpkins and my birthday immediately went downhill. As freshmen, my friends and I were “too cool” to celebrate Halloween and without a spook house to fall back on, I had no clue what to do for my birthday. So for a few years, I did nothing except aimlessly walk around with my friends and get into shaving cream fights. One time a kid threw an egg at me and it really hurt. It was boring and I longed for my old kid parties.
My high school birthdays were snooze-fests, but I thought maybe things would get better in college. LOL no – things only got worse. For one birthday, my little brother got in trouble with the cops and my parents were so mad they forgot about me. For the next, I went out with a few friends – and immediately watched two of them get in a huge fight that ruined the rest of the night. I tried to be understanding, but inside I was like, “it’s my birthday and no one cares.”
My 21st birthday was no less terrible. I went out with a bunch of my friends and had visions of having a great night because it was a milestone birthday. But even before the clock struck midnight, my best friend got mad at her ex for a very stupid reason and made such a dramatic scene that we all had to go home. The night ended early after I got in a huge fight with her, screamed at everyone and drove home alone to do nothing. The next night when we went out again, another best friend threw up on my shoes.
One birthday, I had both strep throat and tonsillitis – trying to have fun while you can’t speak and have a fever is basically impossible. One year, I planned (for the first time!) to go somewhere really fun with all of my friends and we promptly had a surprise early snowstorm (yes, in October) and had to stay local. Last year, my birthday fell the day after Hurricane Sandy hit Long Island hard. A lot of friends lost their houses, my boyfriend was stuck at the end of his flooded block and we had no electricity, so… yeah, we didn’t celebrate or think about my birthday (I obviously don’t blame anyone for that but it still sucked). And every single year for the last five years, one of my very best friends has ditched my b-day plans to do things with her other friends, so that’s always felt really great.
I know I probably sound very bitter and miserable and ungrateful right now. I won’t lie, some of my friends have done things to try to make my birthdays turn out well. One year, probably the best birthday I’ve had since I was a kid, one of my best friends surprised me with an elaborate skull cake. Another BFF always sticks by my side and does what I want to do, even though it’s Halloween and other people try to make plans with her. I appreciate those gestures, I really do. But, maybe I’m just spoiled… I still hate my birthday.
Another reason I hate my birthday? I’m a naturally shy person and so I feel really uncomfortable making a big deal about what I want to do, if that makes sense. It doesn’t help that my birthday is on Halloween – there is always a ton of stuff going on and I feel a little bad asking my friends to forgo other plans and just do what I want. I don’t like planning things that are centered around me. I wish I had someone else who could plan my birthday celebrations every year!
Now, with another birthday just around the corner, I have made the decision to stop celebrating them forever. When I told my friends this, they all rolled their eyes and got annoyed at how lame I was being. This is yet another reason I can add as to why I hate my b-day: now that I want to do nothing, everyone bugs me about it. I can’t help it though – I have have terrible birthday luck. I either get sick, there’s some natural disaster or I fight with my friends. Plus, I hate that the focus is on me.
Up until a few weeks ago, I have felt really guilty about hating my birthday. Birthdays are supposed to be fun and exciting and glamorous, or at least society makes it seem that way. So if you don’t have a good birthday or if you have a boring birthday, people make you feel bad about it. But I don’t care anymore. I’ll continue celebrating Halloween, but in my book, my birthday is done. And it’s okay if you feel the same way about your own birthday!
How do you feel about your birthday? Why do you like or dislike it? Can you relate to my story? Were you born on a holiday and if so, do you like it? Tell me in the comments.