I've had a lot of unmemorable birthdays. I was never big on parties or anything like that and since my birthday's around the holidays, the chances of me having a full day of school were slim.
I only had two parties, that I remember. One at 4 or 5 in a fast food place. Another at 9 in a bowling alley with a bunch of newly-made friends (as we'd just moved/switched schools earlier that fall).
I've had a couple birthdays on Thanksgiving. I remember the first time, that I was conscious of it, we were pulling into my grandma's driveway at 1:00 and I ran into her house to be there when the clock hit 1:01, my minute of birth. Time has always been important to me. My 18th birthday, my first away at college, was also on Thanksgiving. It meant I could be with my family and eat pie and cake as much as I pleased and get extra presents and money from family members who couldn't just ignore my birthday while in front of my face.
Then there are more I wish I could forget.
Like my 13th (or maybe 14th birthday) when my best friend at the time cancelled our plans to see a movie without a word because she had a dentist appointment she'd forgotten about and didn't remember to tell me (I was really bad at choosing good friends until recent years). My parents decided to then invite their best friends over to play games and give gifts. My mom took me to see the movie the next day or next weekend - it was Twilight. And it created another thing for us to bond over as she devoured the books and waited for the movies with me. They were sweet gestures, but there's only so much they could really help.
A year or two after that, one of my family members chose to have HER birthday party on my birthday. They included me in a way - I think my name was on the cake and I took a picture with her and someone I didn't know whose birthday was also around that time. Mostly I was miserable since I knew so few people and most of them weren't my age. But the worst part was after, when family decided to after party at a nearby bar. My brother was 4 or 5 at the time and couldn't go into the bar, nor would he want to. We sat in the car for hours. He watched an entire movie. My dad came out with food for him. I sat in the car and cried and made my brother promise not to say anything because I didn't want to upset my parents. Of course, being really young, he did mention it at some point and I brushed it off. Said he didn't know what he was saying. My parents went with it and didn't push. And I think my brother still remembers that day.
Then there was last year where my depression had been triggered by a houseguest being brought in and I came home from a lovely time with friends and cried when I saw the dishes still in the sink and then woke up in the morning and cried some more and had to deal with the post office.
But last year, I had time to turn the day around. It became one of the best birthdays I've ever had. I sat and talked for HOURS with a friend over lunch than tea then in Strand where I was able to buy as I pleased due to birthday money then we went to dinner. I came home to cards from my family that made me cry absurdly happy tears and one of those cards still hangs on my wall.
I guess what I'm realizing is that I'm used to others being put first and being ignored. I'm okay with that, really. I should be less okay with that, but I am. But I'm not okay with being ignored or stood up or pushed aside on my birthday. I don't need much more - part of me longs to just order in a big meal and stay home all day on my birthday this year - but I come first. That's all I demand.
And I don't think it's too much for a birthday.
