that funny feeling
Addressing birthday dread! How to overcome hosting anxiety! And reckoning with fantasy vs. reality.
It’s my 27th birthday as I write this, a day that routinely fills me with anticipatory dread. I’ve spent most of October mentally bracing myself for my birthday, primarily hoping to avoid last year’s debacle. My birthday has always been a source of stress even at the best of times, I’ve always felt discomfort with the pressure and attention from others. However, last year’s was especially sour. I don’t remember much about it other than the day prior, I was supposed to go on a date that I wasn’t even looking forward to. The guy stood me up and gave me an extremely lackluster apology the following day. I remember sitting in the café we were supposed to meet, trying to read and enjoy my tea, but feeling profoundly horrible about how horrible I felt. I ended up calling my best friend who happened to be in town, but less fortuitously was there primarily due to family issues. She was also not in the best of spirits, but I called and begged her to distract me from that horrible evening. We settled on playing Mario Party all through the night. I woke up the next day in the same clothes, and last night’s makeup smeared on my face, determined that my 27th would be different.
This year, I was determined to host my birthday party. I was inspired by
‘s post on the science of a good party and had recently moved into a space where I could finally have a dining table. Partially to justify the expense of moving, and partially to give myself the kick in the ass I needed, I issued an ultimatum that I host my birthday. The food and preparation was the easy part for me…I took the day of the party off so I would have time to clean and prep and focused on making foods that could be easily prepared the day of or in advance. I envisioned a sandwich bar heavily inspired by Aimee Francis, a vegan harvest salad to accommodate dietary needs, and, of course, cake! I used to be a cake denouncer, but having now made several I’ve gained an appreciation for a well-balanced cake’s shelf life and ability to be made in advance. The party attendees generously supplied other foods, so much so that there was more food and drink than we could’ve possibly hoped to consume.More stressful than the quality of the sustenance was the scheduling, coordination, and the prospect of keeping others entertained. I worried my friends from different groups would not get along, I worried everyone would cancel last minute and no one would show, I worried about coming off as a try-hard and too eager-to-please, desperate for birthday party validation. I did my best to give my friends fair notice and gauge dates in advance. Party planning with adults is tricky at the best of times, and October proved to be especially fraught with travel plans, family obligations, and most offensively…other people’s birthdays. There was no perfect date for everyone, so I cast a wide net and let the chips fall where they may. Asking for RSVPs significantly reduced my stress levels, and with two weeks’ notice, most folks fit it into their calendars.



So against all of my anxiety-inducing odds, the party was a success. It was a modest group of friends, but I filled every chair at my table. There was more than enough food & alcohol to satisfy, and everyone had come dressed up and committed to their role in the murder mystery plot. People I had worried would have to leave early stayed and chatted until midnight with one another, and I got texts from friends asking about others “How did A’s date go?”, “Oh R was such a hoot!”. We read each other’s tarot cards and discussed our hopes for the past, present, and future. The birthday demons had been subdued, at least temporarily, and life felt rich.
Now as I have crossed the threshold into another year, I still feel pangs of regret of what could be. But these are tempered by the bounty of what I now possess and the potential that lies before me. And so much love, conventional and strange, that if think about it too long it makes me ache. Waking up to voice memos from friends, sending and receiving new addresses for cards and letters, my dad calling me randomly in the week just to talk, my mom inevitably on speaker with him. Wearing my grandma’s opal ring, texting my boss something funny about a public official, my coworkers sending me political memes. The girl at the bakery asking me about my tattoos, a dog rolling in the grass, my cat crawling onto my chest purring, and a neighbor smiling and asking about the plant I’m bringing into my house. Laughing sadly with my therapist about the state of the world. Among all those still exist the daily frustrations, disappointments, and grief that come with life. I worry about how I seem to my younger self, would she be disappointed when she asks, “So when do we X, Y, Z?”
But in the end, all we have is what currently is. Fantasy and ambition are great motivators, and its tempting to get lost in dreams of what could and might be. But those fantasies can easily turn into ruminations and regrets that might not even make sense for the path that you’re currently on. Why am I jealous of my friend moving to Denver? It’s easy to fall into the trap of comparison. I hate to bring up the Sylvia Plath metaphor (like every other vaguely literary girly on the internet) but it plagues us for a reason. It does us no good to deny ourselves the pleasures of the moment because we fear making a choice. Maybe that’s why birthdays…and autumn…bring up such mixed feelings for me. While it is an arbitrary marker of the passage of time, culturally it evokes the feeling of shedding a skin to make way for the new. And maybe acknowledging that some of my wishes and decisions differ from my previous conceptions of myself.
If you made it this far, thanks for landing here for a bit. I hope you all are weathering this season of transitions well and are looking forward to what a new year might bring us. Until next time.





this looks and sounds fabulous - HBD 🖤🖤🖤