I was always a bit scared of birthday celebrations, MY birthday celebrations. There was something unsettling about having to face in public the fact that time has gone by... and you have moved through the timeline.
There are two things I don’t like: being the attention focus (who are these people, do they really like me? what are they thinking right there, in front of me, while singing the birthday song? are they happy? why? are we supposed to look happy today?), and remaining static. I guess that, for the most part, birthdays were for me a ritual where cakes came to confirm that nothing had changed, except the date.
I used to feel (and still do, sometimes) angry towards the “happy birthday” 13 letters tweet-alike wishes’ people. People that never cared to ask me how I was doing, pretending to be very attentionate (with the help of facebook reminders). I’m working on that, because there is no point in taking such flippant behavior personally. Two years ago, when life started to get really complicated (as if it’s ever easy), I decided to change the focus, for birthdays are actually a celebration of life.
When I was a kid, I felt like years were an inmense unity of measure, a very long period of time that started with holidays and Christmas leftovers, had some cakes and school all along, then my own cake, and then Christmas again. Then my father died and that left a scar on the calendar.
But before that, when the most terrible events I could imagine were coming back to school or losing a tooth in a painful way, I dedicated long afternoons to reflect about that dark unknown thing called adulthood, wondering when my time would come. And time started to go faster, the kid I was went through high-school, University, the stressful and dissapointing first job, quitting, more jobs, more quittings, friends came in and out, so did lovers, so did I. Yet somehow I remained.
And now my birthday is a day to catch up with myself.
Today I'm 28 years old. I landed in France a month before my birthday 27, with my life compressed in two pieces of luggage. I left all my books behind. I had to edit myself more than a bit, to fit the travel size. But I’m growing roots again, inside and outside. I cut everything I didn’t need, people included. I welcomed the new and I survived winter. I hear myself speaking in a third language that still feels fake, but I enjoy the experience. Even now, as I write in English, I smile thinking of all the little details that reveal my true origins. For language is a form to shape toughts and to perform your identity, and although I don’t hide mine, I love to explore the edges. I’m full of projects, and fears, and doubts, of course. I launched my 365 project today and I’m still scared about the future. The dark unknown future. But here I go. Happy birthday to me :)
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My boyfriend is not a morning person. To the extent that sometimes waking up seems painful.
Last night he remained stuck to the computer until midnight, working on an article that must be sent by tomorrow.
Just to complete the picture, he got a flu.
A few minutes after midnight he came upstairs to wish me a happy birthday.
This morning he woke up before I did... and baked scones for my birthday breakfast. And he gave me presents.
I don’t think he knows so I’m going to tell him, the best gift is in how he treats me. Not because of the gifts, or the breakfast, but because he doesn’t look at me with pity or condescendance, he looks at me with respect. He calls me out when I’m lazy or uncaring, and he hugs me when all I want to do is cry. Sometimes it’s everything at once. He is there to support me in my struggles, and he reminds me of my victories, even when they feel tiny.
Being a social bee is definitely NOT one of my skills. I’m always so anxious about social encounters I end up being weird. Sometimes very weird. That’s a work in progress. Despite of that, I’ve got a few friendly faces, and that’s what all of them have in common. Fierce, strong, resilient people. Their smiles are not fake, their words don’t come from a fake speech. I also have some “old” faces. Faces that are on the other side of the ocean. Even though we now communicate by voice notes and pictures, they never leave me alone, the never left me alone. They also called me out when I was being consumed by self-pity, anger, sadness. They shared my moments of happiness. And I don’t think these people know so I’m going to tell them, to thank them.
Thank you, I’m celebrating the presence of all of you in my life today.
