My birthday was last weekend. And I get a little down every year on my birthday. I don’t know if I’ve ever told anyone that before, because it seems stupid. So every year, I just feel sad and stupid. When you are young, everyone makes such a big deal out of your birthday. Party, presents, cake, friends and family. Especially when you are a twin – twice the party. I’m not sure when it happens – but slowly, over time, turning one year older ceases to be so exciting. But I still have this romanticized idea about how special and magical my birthday should be. So I always get disappointed when it doesn’t measure up. I have never really analyzed this, because it seems too selfish and small; but this year I gave it a deeper look. You see, my love language is gifts (if you haven’t read Gary Chapman’s book on this subject, I would highly recommend it). People always seem suprised by this – as if it’s unchristian for gifts to mean “love” to me. Let me explain what that means for me: I feel most loved when someone has thought about me when we aren’t together. This doesn’t have to translate into big, expensive gifts (although I don’t turn those down). It can be as simple as writing me a note, sending me a card, or picking up a knick knack that made you think of me. Soooo, when my birthday isn’t acknowledged with a card or a gift, I feel unloved. I know it’s not reasonable or rational. It doesn’t even sound very grown-up, but its how I feel. Until now…
I have recognized it for what it is – the bad and the ugly. So now I refuse to wallow in it. This birthday, the thought occured to me that instead of judging my friendships and my marriage by this one day a year, I should consider the merits of the relationship the other 364 days a year. Now THAT puts things in perspecitive. I have the blessing of a kind, commited husband; fun, loyal friends; generous and engaged parents, and sweet sisters. I’m going to try to remember this when September 25 comes around again, and live in gratitude for the people in my life.
I have recognized it for what it is – the bad and the ugly. So now I refuse to wallow in it. This birthday, the thought occured to me that instead of judging my friendships and my marriage by this one day a year, I should consider the merits of the relationship the other 364 days a year. Now THAT puts things in perspecitive. I have the blessing of a kind, commited husband; fun, loyal friends; generous and engaged parents, and sweet sisters. I’m going to try to remember this when September 25 comes around again, and live in gratitude for the people in my life.
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