How I Really Feel About My Birthday
It’s not just another day
As we get older, it becomes very fashionable to be nonchalant about birthdays. Ah, the gleaming maturity of feigning unconcern about the day you were born. How adult of us.
“Why do people even celebrate birthdays? It’s not even an achievement.”
But it is.
Birthdays are personal festivals. You were born into this world with or without purpose, but you were.
We live paced lives, and we need to be reminded to stop and smell the flowers, count the stars, and eat cake. If we must go down the spiral of nihilism which my generation loves doing, it would be worth noting that it is the nicest social construct to have ever been made —
Celebrate because you were born!
It is humanism at best.
The bane of my generation is that everyone is a sociology student with a contrarian view of life as we know it. It is all very entertaining, and I love the curiosity, but it would be terrible to have to live in a world without birthdays.
Every birthday, we are reminded that time is running out but we are also compelled to make the best out of the little time we have in this time and space.
If you think Diwali/Christmas/Eid is worth celebrating, so is your birthday. There is a truth to birthdays that can be validated. It is a day to smile a little, sleep more and eat more.
Time is relative, yes but if you are getting a chance to feast, take it.
A distaste for one’s birthday is a bit self hate-y? And I guess hating me is just something I could leave to other people.
