Friday, 11:45 PM
Friday, 11:45 PM
My mother waited two days for me. I wasn't ready. At 37 I’m still not fully here for it.
What will you be doing for your birthday?
A question that gets thrown around when a birthday comes up. Especially if you’re like me and love to tell everyone from the delivery guy to your kid’s classmates that your birthday is coming up. Because I really do love my birthday. I love the celebratory messages. I looooove the presents and I love the idea that someone thinks of me. But actually celebrating makes me crazy.
I cannot seem to hold the happy, the love or the attention that others want to share with me. I never feel comfortable celebrating my birthday ‘as one should’ with a traditional party or gathering.
Each time I did give it a go, it ended with me having an emotional breakdown. It is an inevitable consequence, to quote my mother: “ever since you were little you always cry on your birthday, really strange.”
Partially to avoid this emotional mess I tend to retreat and spend the day binge-eating and watching my favorites by myself.
I splurge and treat myself in the weeks leading up to my birthday and then shy away and stay in bed on my actual birthday.
On my birthday I experience the exaggerated version of how I usually perceive life: as if I don't really belong here.
Not because friends or family don't want to show up, but because I am afraid to believe they will. It sounds really sad and delirious (I am aware). I know I am loved and I love many people who will go out of their way to spoil me, if I would let them. But I can’t, I’m a contradiction in a contradiction.
I love and need to feel seen, but can't handle to be seen or be the center of anyone’s attention. I hate to be forgotten or someone's afterthought, yet I love to hide and retreat. Unintentionally ghosting people I love and care about. I love physical touch, it’s my love language, but I freeze when a friend hugs or kisses me. I'm sure there are a million explanations for my behavior and patterns, but I really don't care about the why of my weird. It just is and now you know it too.
My mother used to tell me about the day I was born. She went into labor on Wednesday morning, and I finally arrived on Friday at 11:45 pm… I can only imagine how horrible that must have been. Maybe I wasn’t really eager to start this life? I did eventually show up, but only after my mother had to push so hard she ended up breaking her arm :( However I did make it in time for my due date 28th of april, 15 minutes before the deadline.
When I became a mother I learned how important the birth experience is for children. At every doctor’s appointment they ask a young mother if anything out of the ordinary occurred during labor. The way you were born could end up explaining a lot of your personality, characteristics or struggles that show up later in life.
In class I learned that if you were born past your due date you tend to show up late to appointments. Well, I arrived just in time, healthy and happy, but I had to be really dramatic about it. First I was in breech and last minute I decided to flip around and then I made everyone think I was about to come, but decided to let them wait it out.
Till this day I have a talent to wear/tire people out with my shenanigans.
People tend to experience me as stubborn, I strongly disagree, but okay. I always figure things out, but not without stressing everyone out beforehand, and I’m still all over the place with my wants and needs.
It's my party and I'll cry, skip or come late if I want to.