adult birthdays are weird

spending my 27th birthday alone

Birthdays are kind of… strange when you’re an adult.

There are 5 out of 7 days that your birthday can fall on, so the chances of it landing on a workday are roughly 71%. Most of your friends are probably busy working, but they’ll send you a quick “Happy Birthday” text to show they’re thinking of you — a caring gesture.

Obviously, things have changed over the years. When I was a kid, it was the anticipation of the phone ringing on and off all day or the hand-written cards that were sent by mail a few days prior. My Pop used to buy me scratch-it tickets because it was a “lucky day.” I don’t think I ever won anything, but it always made me laugh.

The most distinct difference, though, is the environment. No longer waking up in your childhood home where your family greets you with a warm embrace and a verbal “Happy Birthday!” No longer greeted by colourfully wrapped presents laid out in the living room or on the kitchen countertop. No longer going to school, where your friends had little hand-made gifts or cards for you, or the teachers encouraged everyone to sing “Happy Birthday.”

It may sound sad, but it’s just the natural progression of life. We’re not always going to be 8 years old, living at home with our family. Eventually, you’re going to be 27, living alone in an unfamiliar town. The excitement you felt for your birthday as a child will have waned, and you won’t mind being alone for the day. Maybe you’re at work, and your colleagues buy you some cupcakes and acknowledge the special day by putting it in their calendar. Okay, I’ll admit, that does sound a little sad. But again, it’s just the natural progression of life, and our birthday is simply an acknowledgment of that progression.

One year, your birthday may feel a little lonely. If that’s the case, it’s the perfect opportunity to reflect on the past year. The following year, your birthday may fall on a weekend, and you’ll have plans falling out of your ears.

This year, I’m the former.

Today, I turned 27, and I am living in an unfamiliar town. I have no plans for my birthday, except to do some writing and reflection. I think I’ll do some Pilates and watch some anime, and if I’m feeling extra independent, I might buy myself a cupcake. My entire life, I’ve been with other people on my birthday, and this is the first time I’m completely alone. It’s unfamiliar, and I feel a little sad, but I chose to be alone today.

Spending the occasional birthday alone can be a wonderful opportunity to reflect on the past year. In fact, if a lot has happened, I don’t think it’s the worst thing to be alone. It may feel unfamiliar, but what if it’s a year to embrace unfamiliarity? Perhaps the unfamiliarity serves as a symbol for your new life—a time to acknowledge the evolution of your life so far, and how each age comes with a new perspective on life.

Your birthday is a sign of growth, and change is a natural product of that growth. In fact, if there is no change on your birthday, have you really grown as a person?

Our birthdays look different over the years; there’s no denying that. It’s sort of like Christmas. When you’re a child, you can’t sleep on Christmas Eve because you’re so excited to open your presents. As an adult, you can’t wait for the holidays so you can catch up on sleep. Again, it’s just a symbol of time and all of the growth and change that comes with it. You may mourn the childlike wonder, but I suppose it’s all perspective—you know, that thing you gain as an adult who has a fully developed prefrontal cortex? Hell yeah.

We can all get so caught up in mourning our childhood, myself included. Yet we forget that there are children who don’t get to experience a childhood with presents because their parents can’t afford it. Some children have parents who are too busy arguing or drinking alcohol to remember their birthday. The fact that you have a childhood to mourn means you had something so special that it’s worth missing.

So, as I sit here, alone on my 27th birthday in a town that is not my home, I embrace this unfamiliar loneliness. I know the only reason it exists is because I have people in my life who have always cared enough to make sure I never felt alone, forgotten, or unloved on my birthday.

That’s the best gift of all.

Until next time,
Plot Collector