Am I getting old?
I be wanting my birthdays fully dressed like the best kinda po boy. Baby, take me on a trip. ‘Cross country, yes! Outta the country, YES! Hotel room fabulous and Uber Black rides around town, but a hotel suite that includes a driver is even better. Suitcase packed with everything new, down to my panties and perfume. Cake so gorgeous I don’t wanna cut it. Cocktails made by mixologists who be up for awards. I even get myself a new comforter set. And while I never check my man’s social media page, I’ma hawk on 3/13 to see if he celebrated my existence sufficiently.
This year different though.
It’s like…I care, but I simultaneously kinda…don’t care. Instead of a trip, I wanted to stay home. Read the next paragraph to hear why. Skip it to keep going with the story.
We’re still financially recouping from our wedding (and having a son in college away from home), so I initially planned to go somewhere close. None of the options lit me up though, and the thought of planning the trip felt like work, when it’s usually exciting. Even considered a staycation at a nice hotel downtown, but why? The bed won’t be as comfy as mine, and we’ll have to take an elevator ride and long hallway walk to get to it. We’ll have to remember our passwords to log into the tv apps then remember to log out when we leave. Probably won’t be a microwave to reheat my leftovers. And opening a suitcase for my belongings feels like too much.
At first, I didn’t even care to shop for a new dress. Even if I had the luxury of having a stylist present me with different options while I lay in bed, I still don’t think I would’ve felt like it. That shifted though. So I went hunting online for something that called out to me and found the cutest yet simplest dress. My reactions were: I love this! But it ain’t really giving it’s my birthday. But who cares? I love it. So I got it, and that one dress is all I need with some shoes I already got.
I don’t even wanna cake this year. Gimme 20 chocolate-covered strawberries, all to myself. Matta fact, make it 38 for my age and so I can share some with you and still have a few left over for breakfast the next morning. No cocktails or even wine ’cause I’m not even drinking these days. Read the next paragraph to learn why, as well as why I might even fast on my birthday, or skip it to keep on with the story.
Decided to go sober for Ramadan. It’s haram (sinful) for Muslims to drink alcohol, period. I’m not a Muslim, however. Simply a student of the faith who’s, as consciously and respectfully as possibly, taking part in the 30-day fast. Ramadan requires no food or drink between sunrise and sunset. Initially, I planned to skip fasting for my birthday. Then I flirted with the idea of skipping Fri-Sun. Now, I’m leaning towards honoring the fast the whole weekend—my birthday included. One: I love how extra grateful and grounded I am at Iftar (time to eat at sunset). How not greedy I am, hella aware of how much is enough (before I even start eating). How graceful I carry myself throughout the day, how present I be. And keeping it all the way real, I also ‘preciate how snatched my waistline be.
And I ain’t even on social media these days! Taking a whole year off. So I can’t check his page and, even if I could, he’s taking a break from social media right now too. Given all these changes in how I’m approaching my birthday this year, I’m curious if both of us were still on social media, would I still be waiting on my holy tribute? Or would I not care about that either this year?
I wanna say that I wouldn’t because of how quickly I dismissed my one reason for considering keeping Facebook although I was so, so over it. Briefly—and I mean briefly—I questioned how I would share our wedding pictures, then I just quickly realized that I truly didn’t give a fuck about the likes, loves, comments, and shares the post would get. That’s how I feel about a birthday post this year. While I can’t speak on whether or not I would’ve felt differently if we were both still on social media, I can say I’m not looking for a public expression from him, because I get it every single time it truly matters in the most perfect way possible.
(So why did I care so much in the first place?)
P.S.: I ain’t predicting this forever. I’m a Pisces, I don’t flow like that. Might be the same next year, might not be. Depends what feels like yes.