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10 years of my childhood while my mother had decided to join an anti-birthday mind control cult, so I had to not accept birthday gifts or birthday greetings. I had to literally ask every schoolteacher to not wish me a happy bday or give me the cupcakes like everybody else had on their birthdays. I was not allowed to call it a birthday--I could only say "date of birth".*
Before and after that, my birthdays were mostly awesome. I can't think of any bad bday stories from those times, actually.
Best was in my late teens while I was plotting my escape from Hotel California and my coworkers gave me flowers for my birthdays. Given the fact that I had not been allowed to date, go to school dances, or celebrate any holiday, that meant so much to me. I felt special and normal on those birthdays--a feeling I hadn't had in such a long time. I will never forget them doing that.
*I also had to leave the room when other kids were celebrating their birthdays. Good times.
Last edited by imagineAA; 10-23-2016 at 12:53 PM..
I feel sad for some of the responses on here. I don't really care too much for my birthday but the worst one that comes to mind was when I was 13. My mother wasn't much for making a fuss about birthdays but this year she wanted to take to a nice restaurant that was a good drive from our home. It was fancy and we dressed up. I was really looking forward to it. She said I could bring one friend and I chose my best friend at that time.
I didn't feel well for most of the day but couldn't really put my finger on it. On the long drive to the restaurant, I felt shaky. By the time we got to the restaurant I was really feeling terrible. My mother said I was probably over hungry and asked the waitress to bring me a glass of milk. As I drank it I had to hold it with both hands because my hands were shaking so badly. After I drank the milk, it hit me that I needed to vomit. I ran to the bathroom and barely made it into the stall before I had exorcist type vomiting. It was horrific. I was completely embarrassed. I cleaned up the stall and made it back to the table looking pretty green. I knew I was going to be sick again. We had to box up our dinners as soon as they arrived. Then we had a long drive home with me hanging out the car window. My birthday is November so it was a pretty chilly drive home. I remember my friend complaining how cold she was. She then told our small group of friends what a horrible time she had and how I was barfing out the car window. How embarrassing. We didn't stay friends too long after that. Turns out I had the flu and it was my first time having it. Yuck.
I'm perplexed that people celebrate that day all their lives.
Well, I just feel like we could say that about anything fun in life. I don't think we have to be so practical that we can't have fun and celebrate something, even if there's no logical reason for it. There are plenty of times in life that aren't going to be much fun. Maybe it's just a way of celebrating life in general? (I understand not everyone feels that life is worth celebrating, but...)
Quote:
Originally Posted by fallingwater
I feel sad for some of the responses on here.
I know, some of them are truly heartbreaking.
Also, I'm really surprised at how many parents won't make sure their child gets to feel special enough to have their own, separate birthday celebration when it lands around a holiday. I mean, I know it happens, but it really surprises me, assuming they are otherwise loving parents.
Also, I'm really surprised at how many parents won't make sure their child gets to feel special enough to have their own, separate birthday celebration when it lands around a holiday. I mean, I know it happens, but it really surprises me, assuming they are otherwise loving parents.
I feel terrible for some of you folks. I will never complain about my birthday again!
I shared a birthday with my grandmother. Every year we had a family celebration--the cake had the requisite number of candles for me and a numeral for my grandmother's age. It was fine, but I resented never having a party that I could invite friends to, because my grandmother's house wouldn't accommodate more than about 6 people; also, she didn't like a large crowd of people that made her nervous.
I remember one year I had an Easter party and could invite my friends--that was the best (and only) "regular" party I had as a child. I made sure my daughter had birthday parties and could invite her friends like the rest of her classmates.
Nothing springs to mind. I don't make a big deal about my birthday. Sometimes I do something nice for myself, but I rarely tell other people it's my birthday. When I was young and single and my crowd was always looking for an excuse to party, some of them knew when my birthday was and I got a bash for my 30th. As for bad things, no memories that hang on.
Wife took me to my favorite steak house for my birthday dinner. My 9 month old daughter lost her s%*t and wouldn't stop crying. She spent half the dinner pacing outside with her.
My 21st birthday my older sister stole all the alcohol I bought for that evening, so I had nothing to drink and no one to go out with to get more (my friends were not 21 yet so no bar for me). My 30th birthday was spent having dinner with my ex-husband discussing divorce logistics, that was a blast let me tell you. I've spent plenty of birthdays at work, and one in particular I was on business travel...although that was in Minneapolis near Mall of America by myself...which could be good and dangerous at the same time (credit card in hand).
Good stories. By total coincidence...and I promise, 'tis the truth...spotted this thread today, 10/24, which is my actual birthday. I am 49 today and feel great, actually. Life could be better, but could be worse as-well. Speedbumps.
I'm going to buck the trend and mention something nice that happened, dwelling on the positive rather than some of the negativity found thus far here. My GF of fairly short acquaintance brought me a marionberry pie from a French bakery we both like. I had a small sliver for lunch and it's yummy. Other friends have wished me well, virtually.
So, I'm grateful I haven't died yet today, though the day is not quite over either. Fundamentally, that's a "good day" we might say. I assume the odds of perishing today are low, though I do not have actuarial tables in front of me that predict such events. The odds rise to 100% by some similar day in, say, the next seventy five years or so. Presumably sooner.
Ah, wait: my 40th was spent in a hotel room in St. Louis ordering takeout. All it needed was an annoying, blinking neon sign outside the room saying "Motel" to complete the picture. Well, while not good, that wasn't quite awful either come to think of it.
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I don't really care too much for my birthday but the worst one that comes to mind was when I was 13. My mother wasn't much for making a fuss about birthdays but this year she wanted to take to a nice restaurant that was a good drive from our home. It was fancy and we dressed up. I was really looking forward to it. She said I could bring one friend and I chose my best friend at that time. 
