Not as it used to be…


So, Halloween just passed and my Birthday is tomorrow. Why am I not excited? Because I believe that once you are about fourteen or fifteen years old, you stop being happy about your birthday. But once you hit, oh about… 50, you start loving every Birthday you get.
For me, I never really enjoyed Birthdays. I didn’t like the idea of all the attention being towards me. It scared and frustrated me. I would freak out when my mother invited people over to the house for my birthday and everyone would crowd around me at the kitchen table screaming “Happy Birthday” in my face, taking pictures and what-not. I also hate the idea of someone spending anything on me. Wither it’s money, time, patients or love, I hated it. I always thought I was never meant to be “dealt with.”
Some of my hate for Birthdays goes as far back in my life as my third Birthday. (This actually happens to be the first thing I remember as a child.)
On my third Birthday, I remember opening a present, and for some reason I was so excited. Once I had the wrapping paper off, I saw that it was a puzzle. My favourite thing EVER! I wanted to build it now. Not after the party. Now. So, I took my three year old self into the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife from the drawer and tried to open it, (the proper way, I might add.) In the act of doing this, the knife slipped and cut my hand open in the webbing between the thumb and index finger. I still have the scar.
The second thing that has gone wrong on my birthday was drama. I believe it was my seventh or eight birthday party, and I was actually excited about this one. I had invited all of my friends over and everything seemed to be perfect, except for when my friend Kim and her brother got there. My brother (who is two years older) started fighting with Kim’s brother. They were actually punching each other in the face! So, I decided to hide in an unfinished room in the basement and cry because I knew I would be having a horrible day from then on. No one could even find me. I heard them calling my name and bribing me with cake, ice cream and presents, but I was to upset to move. I knew that I should have changed out of my big, fluffy dress and into my more normal clothing and run to the school playground a few blocks away, but I didn’t, because deep down, I still wanted to have that amazing birthday I always wanted. It didn’t get any better after that…
My point being is that I am probably prone to never having a good Birthday. But also, my other point is that it’s not as it used to be.
    Think about it, when you were five and your parents asked you want you wanted for your birthday or what you wanted to do, it was either a yes or no, we’ll see or maybe. It was not how it is now. As a teenager, our parents ask us the same thing, what do we want or what we want to do. Most of the teenagers I know would rather go out and get drunk and get high than be anywhere near their parents on their birthdays, but those who do like to be with family and close friends still don’t get the “Child Treatment.” When we say what we want for our Birthdays, our parents may say “It’s too expensive,” “maybe for Christmas,” or just a flat out “No.” Same thing goes with where we want to have our Birthdays.
Regardless, no matter how we look at it, there is no way our lives will EVER be the same as they were when we were kids.


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