The pain and joy that are birthdays.


Technically, it’s just another day – yesterdays tomorrow, and tomorrows yesterday.
Just another day.
On your birthday you are still only 1 day older than you were the day before.

The year we venture into another decade is always treated as significant.
As a celebration that we have made it this far and are still happy and healthy.
Or a warning of ticking time, unfulfilled dreams and an impending sense of becoming superfluous.

Don’t you think it is better to be celebrating birthdays with others than others celebrating your life without you?

Remember when you were a child and birthdays were something to be excited about.
The idea of cake, presents and to be the focus for one day was an incredibly attractive deal.
I can still remember the anticipation of presents and being able to choose the dinner dish. (Beef Stroganoff was my go-to meal -clearly revealing I am old enough not to have had access to endless takeaway choices)
I can also remember attending friends’ parties and filling myself to the point of feeling unwell, with cake, cheerio’s and fairy bread. The expectation as your friend opened all the gifts hoping for some indication that yours was the best.

When do we start believing that getting older is a fate worse than death and birthdays are something to dread?

Are we hoping if we deny our age the grim reaper will stay away because he has beings in more significant stages of decay, to focus on?

Is that the reason we struggle with birthdays?
They remind us of the marching years and the finishing line being closer than the starting blocks?
Or is it that we are not where we thought we would be by a particular age? That the life we thought we would have at 50 is not the life that we live in?
Filling our souls with a sense of disappointment and let-down.

Someone told me once that they have a birthday week and I for one, think it is a splendid idea.
To carry on the celebration of our birth well beyond the day it actually was.
The thought of eating cake, cheerio’s and fairy bread, every day for a week is rather delicious and an excellent remedy to the discontent we often associate with birthdays.

Lets’ go big.
Make sure everyone knows it is our birthday and that we intend to celebrate it in style. (Mines August 13th by the way😊)
That we intend to extend these celebrations over several days and people are welcome to join us in whatever capacity they see fit.

I love it that there are companies who give you a holiday on the day of your birthday. That I would have an ‘honour Niki day’, for one day of every year.
A day when I can do what I want, eat what I want, and just bloody well let loose. (Interesting isn’t it that I associate doing that with only one day of the year – someone told me once I was too contained!)

This year why don’t you take control and make your birthday your day.

Design your perfect birthday.

Decide who you want there to celebrate with you.
Let people know the gifts you require to make it special. Or don’t have gifts if that is what you prefer. (Yes I am a gift person, so there is a wrangle between the charitable side of me that says gifts aren’t necessary and the self-care side of me that says yes they are and bring it on. Maybe I could alternate.)

Search through recipe books to find the perfect food or book the ideal restaurant.

Order your own birthday cake to be delivered on the day. Why not have flowers or a gift basket as well?

Take control and create what is unique to you.

Celebrate the fact that your lungs still breath, your heart still beats, and your existence is filled with the joy and pain, the ups and downs that come with being alive.

Actually, why wait until then.
Why don’t you just start now 😊

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