Sometimes I Hate My Birthday

In a little over a month, on Halloween, I’ll be 25. But I don’t want to talk about that. No, really, I don’t want to talk about it.

When I was a kid, I LOVED my birthday. I had pretty much the best birthday ever, since I was a Halloween baby. Everyone was jealous of me, I got to tell people I was a secret witch, and everyone was always excited to celebrate it since it was also a holiday. Also, my parents threw me the best birthday parties ever. My dad built us spook houses in the unfinished part of our basement, which were legitimately scary since my dad is awesome. Everyone came dressed in costume, my parents bought us all little pumpkins to decorate, and my mom made me cakes shaped like ghosts and pumpkins. The worst Halloween of my life was the Halloween we stopped doing these since we were all getting too “old”.

Now, I kind of hate my birthday. I don’t hate Halloween – it’s the best holiday ever. I just don’t love my birthday.

Here are some reasons I do like my birthday:

1. I get presents. Sorry that’s really superficial. But let’s all admit that it’s the number one reasons birthdays are great, okay?

2. My birthday is on Halloween, which is my favorite holiday, so that means my birthday is my favorite holiday.

3. I get to wear a costume, which is so much more interesting than wearing just another sparkly dress and a tiara.

4. I like seeing who’s going to say happy birthday to me and who’s going to forget about me. True friends vs. fake friends.

5. I can eat candy guilt-free. Which is really more of a reason I love Halloween. So I guess it doesn’t belong here.

Here is a little gem from my 22nd birthday. I was a gypsy and I want to wear that costume every day sometimes.

Here are a few reasons I don’t like my birthday:

1. I’m getting old. It’s depressing.

2. There’s all this pressure on me to do something really fun and awesome and really, I don’t know what to do. So I usually just end up at a bar with my friends who are willing to come out.

3. My birthdays are kind of starting to get unlucky.

  • Last year, we had a freak snowstorm (the only snowstorm of the year had to happen on the night we were celebrating my birthday) and we couldn’t go to the place I really wanted to go to.
  • The year before that, I had tonsilitis and strep throat at the same time, couldn’t drink, had a fever at the bar, was home by 1:00 AM and was also fighting with one of my best friends.
  • For my 21st, I got in a huge fight with two of my best friends, cried at midnight and ended up alone way too early in the night.
  • When I was in high school my parents regularly did not treat me as the birthday princess because they were too focused on making sure my brother didn’t get arrested.

4. I’m getting old. And seriously, it’s depressing.


Maybe my birthdays can stop and only Halloween can continue?