Being celebrated as a child must feel real nice.
I sit and look at people on their birthday, how they celebrate and how glad they are and the amount of people that surround them and it brings me back to my childhood. Living with criminal minds and people who don’t really care that much about you, you get lost in the jumble of everything.
I recall as a kid having one birthday party and that was when I was 14. My sister had my niece and she was getting food stamps so she made me a birthday party it was so fun I smiled the whole time. I joked with my friends, I played with my niece I gave my sister a lot of hugs it was almost like I had won the lottery because someone had seen me and wanted to celebrate me. This was the nicest things she ever did for me as a child. Celebrating was not very often in my life. The type of celebrations that I would get for doing something right was always money. When I’d service a man well my grandmother would give me a dollar or 2 or something and that’s was my reward. That was what I got so let’s bring it back to me being in the military I was very known for throwing my own birthday parties. They were epic I’d bake my own cake even though at this time I wasn’t a Baker; not a very good one or decorator of a cakes. OK to get to the past starting at 20 years old I decided to celebrate myself because I had never been celebrated. However most people don’t know when my actual birthday is because the celebration isn’t always on my birthday. I do it that way because My birthday is still very traumatizing, it’s painful something that I don’t really like. It’s like that day makes me feel unwanted and I try to make it more joyful, more about the people I love surrounding me versus everything else.
I am 34 years old and I’ll be 35 in the summer my summer birthday is gonna be beautiful it’s gonna be fun it’s gonna be about me because I get to do what I want on my day. I wasn’t ever asked as a kid what kind of cake you want, I never got the presents I wanted.
When I got(get) any gifts I was worried what went along with it. I’m still not a really good gift receiver when people give me gifts, I always think it comes with a catch. Growing up everything new like a pair of clothes, underwear, bra’s all came with something. It wasn’t something that I always wanted so that was hard, so now today I still am not a gift taker. When people give me gifts, it hurts me still I kind of cry because I’m not used to getting anything most people forget me. To think someone actually thought about me, even though I’m like the simplest person in the world. A card can make me cry or a Buffalo Wild Wings $15 gift card. Im joyful to know that I’m so simple and people love me for it. It’s really tough inside my head that I still have to remind myself that people don’t want to hurt me. That I am worth a celebration. That I can receive a gift and not cry or feel like I owe someone. My Birthday is the day not many people know about but it’s oh so real in my eyes. I invite those I love to celebrate with me and although only a few come I’ve NEVER felt disappointed but I feel loved.
Celebrations are not about how many come but those who show up….