I know, duh. But I mean that it is always someone else's birthday who is near to me. Being a twin, you never really have your own day. It's not entirely about you. But even after my brother and I moved to separate cities for college, I found that it followed me -- my birthday would always belong to other people.
I remember walking into my first-year suite at UVa and immediately some girl asked about people's birthdays. "February 12th!" I said, finally feeling independent, like it was my own. "OMG ME TOO!" came the squeal from one of my new roommates. Awesome. Of course.
When February 12th rolled around that year she got surprised in our dorm room at midnight by what seemed like her entire pledge class, all carrying balloons and alcohol. I, who was maybe the last girl at UVa to consider joining a sorority, was already in bed and annoyed at being woken up.
The curse, it seems, has continued. Every year, I meet someone who was born on my birthday. When I started work I found out that my coworker is also a Feb 12th baby, which, of course, just seemed to make sense. I live in a world where joint-parties are frequently suggested and my name is not usually the only one on my own cake.
It sounds like I'm complaining, but I've actually come to find a lot of comfort in sharing my day with a host of other people. I'm the type of person who finds it unnerving for all the attention to be directed at me. I go to weddings and think about how great it'd be to stay single for life so I never have a day where people are taking my picture that many times. I blush whenever I feel like an entire room of people is listening to what I'm saying. When people try to force me into the center of a dance circle I want to punch them in the nose.
Birthdays, and our responses to our birthdays, are weird, right? We tend to either love them or want them to evaporate off the calendar. And it makes me think of the different ways we carry ourselves and look at ourselves in the grander world -- it makes me think that we all, every single one of us, really struggles with pride.
Ultimately, disliking attention has to do with being so consumed by what other people think that you'd rather melt into the background. It has to do with insecurities and caring too much about your own image. That is pride. Maybe a less in-your-face version of it than blatant attention seekers, but it's pride all the same.
I heard a sermon once that pride is the root cause of every major offense. It is so human to be wholly consumed by yourself, but it makes the world so small. It makes hurts so big. It makes love so twisted and insincere. I want more than anything to be someone who possess humility, but I find it so hard to get there.
With those thoughts today and with my birthday quickly approaching, I'm asking myself these questions: what fears do I have that make me consumed with my image? Who are my neighbors, the other people I can think about above myself? When my ego is bruised, what is the root of the hurt?
And if you find yourself always consumed by your own sense of self (I'm in that boat with you, friend) - maybe they are good things to ponder too.
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