Why I’m determined to stop hating my birthday

For years, I dreaded the day people would present me with cake and song. But after saying goodbye to people I love, I’ve come to realise the beauty of growing old, writes Darren Levin.

For years I’ve pushed back against my birthday, thinking if I rejected all the rituals around it – the phoned-in Facebook messages, the texts, the cakes, the kitchen gadgets, the socks – I could somehow suspend the march of time.

Being a birthday Scrooge became my default position. Each year when December rolled around I’d brush it off and tell people I’m “doing nothing”, begging them to “not make a fuss”, and warning them against buying me anything because I’ll “most likely regift it”, “cremate it”, or “dump it in the sea.”

Last year I wrote about how birthdays just didn’t represent my personal brand anymore. How cake didn’t resonate with me textually or spiritually (I’m more of a cheese board kinda guy).

I felt birthdays were childish and self-indulgent and never really about the person celebrating them. If they were I’d have the day to myself – to do what I wanted – rather than being force fed Woolworths mud cake or listening to a half-arsed rendition of that blasted birthday song by tone-deaf colleagues.

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I talked myself into hating birthdays so much I wished I could opt out of celebrating them entirely.

I talked myself into hating birthdays so much I wished I could opt out of celebrating them entirely. Picture: iStock

”I still don’t understand the point of birthdays,” I wrote. “Because somewhere between three (kids) and 30, the idea of celebrating the passing of time became less and less appealing. Funny that. It’s almost as if I don’t want to acknowledge that ever diminishing gap between myself and the grave.”

But a lot has happened in the last 12 months that’s made me rethink my position. And as I enter what will be the final year of my not-so-roaring 30s (gulp!) I’ve decided to sing another birthday song.

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History will look back as kindly on social media as it will on that Dating Naked show, but for better or worse it’s given people a platform to talk openly about their life.

I’ve watched how friends (and near-strangers who I’m somehow Facebook friends with) turn to it in times of hardship. Maybe their pet has died or their favourite TV show featuring dragons and an incestuous royal family has ended with a less than satisfactory finale. No matter how trivial the issue, people generally respond back with love and support.

I’m determined to turn this frown around this year. Picture: iStock

And other than the Hawks missing finals and my idiot dog swallowing socks and nearly dying twice, I’ve had a pretty good run this year. So when a friend posted this on their own birthday it really gave me pause for thought.

“Getting older is a privilege some don’t have the chance to have.”

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It made me think of all the people I know who’ve lost loved ones this year, my dear uncle who passed away suddenly last month, and the friends who won’t get the chance to celebrate 40 with me next year.

I’ll never be the kind of person that will celebrate birthdays voraciously. I don’t enjoy the attention and if I partied like it’s 1999 in 2019 I would surely not get off the couch until 2029.

So instead of chucking a big party, I’m going to enjoy some pizza with my family, spend time with said idiot dog, open the bad presents with enthusiasm, and just be thankful for getting to breathe air for another 365 days.

Because, as I’ve come to realise, birthdays aren’t really about getting closer to the grave, but rather defying it for another year. And that really is something to celebrate.

Just please don’t get me a cake.

@darren_levin