On Birthdays

 By Josie McDonell

When I was 23 years old I wrote this mini-essay. I am reprinting here for posterity and because I’m sooo much wiser now, as I approach my 27th year. 

Birthdays are weird and insignificant and special all at the same time. Weird because they make one very conscious of time. Insignificant because a birthday is in fact just another day. Special because with each passing year we have the chance to become ever more ourselves. You get the chance to become more you. 

I am exceedingly annoyed by people who celebrate a “birthday week” or (even more atrociously) a “birthday month.” It’s called a birthday for just that reason...to save your friends and relatives from becoming disillusioned/disgusted by your drawn-out celebrations. 

When I was younger, I often felt birthdays to be a kind of loss. The night before I turned four my mother was tucking me in and as she left the room I called out, “Mom, I’ll never be three again.” She quit her job the next day because she was struck by the finality of my words, deciding right then and there to stay home and spend time with her children while they were still children. 

When I turned thirteen I walked into my mother’s room sobbing and when she asked me what was wrong I said, “I’m growing up too fast!” She had to try really hard to hold back her laughter. 

During the teen years and in my early twenties, I got into the habit of writing myself little notes on the eve of my birthday. Not really words of wisdom...but just something that would remind me of what it felt to be that age. I didn’t want to lose those feelings. That’s why birthdays are weird and insignificant and special. Because they are fleeting. 

So please. When your birthday comes around...enjoy it...but don’t overdo it. Cake is not to be looked forward to if eaten every day. 

As I look back on this essay at the ripe old age of 26-almost-27, I sense a tone of bitterness that is so very particular to the early-twenties. Now I raise my eyebrows at the choice of the word “insignificant.” I think there’s a temptation when we’re independent but still very young to brush aside the little moments—the moments that are actually the very opposite of insignificant. While my early-twenties annoyance at those who turn their bday celebrations into a narcissism runway was well-intentioned, I come across as a bit of a killjoy. 

Birthdays elicit so many emotions because they are an impossible-to-ignore reminder of the gift of life. The funny and perplexing thing about gifts is that they’re not owed. They’re freely given and therefore never certain. We do not know how much time we have. We do not know how many birthdays we will receive. These sobering statements are not meant to be a cause for consternation, but rather a call to celebrate the seemingly insignificant moments with joy. 

When your birthday rolls around, find a way to mark the occasion, even if beset by the anxieties that come from living in an age that scorns the most precious gift of life while simultaneously exulting in the pursuit of perpetual youth. As tempting as it may be to use your birthday as an excuse to lament and mourn how far you haven’t come, think seriously on the ways in which your life has been irrevocably blessed. (Take it from a girl who loves to complain and roll her eyes at the “count your blessings” adage.) 

I myself was tempted to wallow this year…struck with a bit of sadness at leaving the age of Meredith Blake and entering the age of Charlotte Lucas. Cue the *I’m 27 years old* meme. Though I’ll continue to keep my eyes peeled for a handsome winery-owner (preferably not a father-of-twins divorcee), I am resolute in my decision to steer clear of self-pity. Unlike Charlotte Lucas, who really was stuck between a rock and a hard place, I am thankfully (for the moment at least) unfettered by the likes of Mr. Collins. 

And now I shall close this reflection with some words of one much wiser. 

There’s a song that my Godfather wrote that was played at my parents’ wedding, and in moments of despondency spurred on by the angst of aging I find myself repeating the refrain. 

“I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans of fullness, not of harm, to give you a future, and a hope.” 

These words encapsulate the birthday advice that I am trying to impart: 

Pop the champagne and blow out the candles…and rest assured in the knowledge that the best is yet to come!!! Happy Birthday dears!

Josie McDonell is a Regional Director of Major Gifts for the Intercollegiate Studies Institute. She resides in Wilmington, Delaware.