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Annual Day of Reflection
What would you do if someone told
you that you couldn't celebrate your birthday this year? Would
it be a big deal to you, or would you think, "You're crazy!"
I grew up in a family that didn't celebrate birthdays the way most
people do. In fact, due to adhering to a strict set of religious
beliefs, we didn't celebrate them at all. The same went for celebrating
holidays and most other "Hallmark" occasions.
Despite the ixnay on birthdays, every year that April fourth came
around I knew deep down inside that it was my special day, but I
wasn't allowed to acknowledge the day in any extraordinary way, take
cupcakes to school, or eat the birthday treats of fellow schoolmates
on their birthdays either. Couple that with the ironic coincidence
that my sister was also born on April fourth (seven years earlier),
made the day stand out as doubly significant to me. Still, I wasn't
allowed to express joy or happiness about my (or my sister's) day
of birth or participate in any celebration of it. (The reasons "why" we
didn't acknowledge birthdays will be saved for another time.)
This seemingly odd tradition went on in my life until my mid-20s,
when I decided to analyze the beliefs I was raised with. I started
to question everything I was taught and evaluated the inherited belief
system (religious and otherwise) of my parents. Once that process
began, there was no turning back. Thinking and reasoning for myself
produced an inevitability: I began to allow myself to live authentically
and behaved in ways I consciously knew were right for me. Acknowledging
the anniversary of my birth was important to me. Celebrating another
year of life was important to me. Acting like I mattered in the vast
sea of humankind was important to me.
Serendipity
The many years of "birthday repression" has undoubtedly
affected how I feel about my day of birth. It's forced me beyond
the shallow surface of birthday celebrations into a quiet thankfulness
for another year of life. While I wasn't allowed to celebrate outwardly,
I began to celebrate inwardly, while truly appreciating the one day
out of the year that belonged to me. It reminded me that I wasn't
insignificant; my being here did matter; and my life was worth honoring.
The anniversary of the day I was born evolved beyond birthday balloons
and superficial wishes into a personal checkpoint for learned lessons,
notable accomplishments, and future goals. It became an extraordinary
day to celebrate in a way that felt right to me. I still don't expect
others to do anything special for me on my birthday, but I make sure
that I honor my day however I see fit. •
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