Birthdays

If birthdays are supposed to be one of the best days of the year for each of us, then somehow, I missed the memo. Not that every birthday I've had was bad. I had kid parties roller skating, sleep overs, other fun I'm sure. I remember my sweet 16 was pretty grand (before I moved out). But, since my birthday falls in mid winter and I grew up in the Midwest, I also had more than one of my childhood parties snowed out, there even was a blizzard once. My birthday was close enough to the holidays that I would sometimes get the gift with the card saying "this is for Chanukah and your birthday." By the time I was a young adult, I decided that if I wanted a good birthday, I had to make it happen for myself.

For many years, I had success. Then on my 25th bday, my friends "kid napped" me and tried to confuse me on where we were going and we ended up at a large casino, a state away. They knew what I liked to do. They handed me an envelope of money that they and many of my law school buddies had donated into, and told me to have fun. I proceeded to lose the several hundred dollars in that envelope so fast, that I quickly walked to the restroom to regroup. I found an ATM far off where no one could see me withdrawing money, pulled out more than they had given me ($ I could not afford to lose) and started playing again. Friends found me, saw my pile of money and I told them I'd won. The only thing I actually won was paying the highest ATM fees for all the withdrawals I would do.

Birthdays at casinos became a ritual. In my mind, at least I wasn't alone. I sure didn't care what the weather was outside. I tried a birthday outside a casino when I was turning 27. I was totally in love for the first time in my life. They broke up with me ON my birthday. Then tried staying best friends with me for years. That was a mess.

I traveled to Las Vegas for my 30th birthday. I had a bunch of friends with me. I was being pushed around in a wheel chair due to a recent knee surgery. But actually, I remember practically nothing about turning 30, 31, 32, 33, or 34,... They were nights of gambling. In reality no different than any other night of the year except I could tell strangers around a table that it was my birthday or I'd be offered a free beverage and I'd get a Virgin Mary (never wanting to become a drinker).

At 35, my birthday fell just weeks after that "Big Win," and the obsession of numbers and winning in my head was never ending. My partner told me that we were going on a road trip and I got super excited- believing we would be staying at the new casino hotel about an hour north of our home. As we drove, that was not where we went. I started to get angry. Then I started to get bitter and frustrated. Why couldn't we go to the casino, I thought? Q knew I loved to gamble, why would Q take me anywhere else? Turns out that Q had actually been thinking fun, and put us up in a small town we had referred to numerous times. It had only one motel, one bar, etc. I didn't appreciate it. That night when we walked around, I fed my addiction by finding pull tabs at the bar (and won unfortunately) making me believe that Q should have just taken me to the casino. It was just months later that Q and I were history, as was my gambling, as was that life.

Once in recovery, birthdays became special. I spent them with people I cared about, but they did not have to be big or flashy. I also started a tradition of giving small gifts on my birthday. Sure, it is fun to receive gifts, but I love giving gifts. It's a thank you for spending my day with me. 

My last two birthdays have been a bit tough. 2012 occurred just two days after yet another right knee ACL tear. I was laid up on my couch and on crutches. Friends came anyway! 2013 occurred as I was taking my comprehensive exams for my PhD. We do these by ourselves, 5 days straight, writing essays. I was able to step away for both lunch and dinner with different friends. Not long and no bday cake, but it didn't matter. It did not have to be special.

In 2014, my birthday will be in prison. If I have prison friends, they may make me a cake (somehow they do it with commissary supplies and the micro) or maybe not. It doesn't really matter. My birthday does not need to be special, flashy, or anything any more. I do not need to be surrounded by others to know that I'm loved or I matter. I do not need to cry because people failed to call me on my bday. I don't need cakes or gifts. I just need a moment to close my eyes and be grateful that I have been given this second chance. My birthday will forever be about giving back, not about taking.