Birthdays

by The Flamingo

Another year has gone by, the same mixed feelings every year, the same “too much overthinking it”…I wished I enjoyed my birthdays as a sane, normal person would. But alas, I’m neither, I’m The Flamingo, who thrives in finding meaning in things, over complicating them, with no conclusion whatsoever.

Every year, on my birthday, I transform myself in this weird, twisted, “profound” philosopher. But only on this special day, the rest of the year my alter ego stays well hidden and I rejoice life like a regular person.

I first became acquainted with my inner philosopher on my 18th birthday. It was a really bizarre meeting, especially because I had a lot of fun that day. Nevertheless something was eating me at the back of my mind constantly. So I let him in…The result of that? I dumped my boyfriend the next day.

What is with this philosophical side of me? Where did it come from? And at the beautiful age of 18…when I was still childlike, but in a grownup body. I never liked philosophy, never was interested, until a lot of unanswered questions poured over me, all at once, like the Niagara Falls. Maybe I matured overnight?! That is hard to believe, but the consequences of turning the fatidic age changed my mindset at 180 degrees.

My evil philosopher likes to show up every birthday since then and thrives in playing  with my mind, telling me I’m getting older, that my beautiful childhood is over, that I’m on my own now. He asks me what have I achieved until now, if I am happy with my life, what changes do I need to make. I try fighting him, I’m telling myself, “woman, just enjoy your birthday, do some shopping, eat some cake, see a play, throw a party”, but he ends playing me like a fiddle, whispering words like “you’re one year closer to your death” and crazy pessimistic stuff like that.

I know all the sayings like “age is just a number” or “if you feel young on the inside…” and blah blah blah, but my philosopher laughs himself silly when he hears all this childish gibberish. I do not consider it gibberish for what it’s worth, because I really do believe them, but my alter ego has a different mentality altogether.

So every year, my poor husband fights a bloody battle with my philosopher and I’m proud to say he is on the winning side. He always knows what to say, how to make my day special and beautiful. My conniving philosopher sits in a corner the whole day, throws some nasty thoughts my way, but they don’t bite as much.

I now have lots of happy thoughts on my birthdays and the most heartwarming of all is gratitude. I am grateful for my family, especially my beautiful child and my patient husband and for my wonderful friends that think of me on that “blustery day” of mine.

I begin my birthday in tears, but it always ends with a smile on my face. So, dear philosopher, throw your worst at me, because I will fight you with all the best I have, the people I hold dear.

Photo by Buenosia Carol from Pexels