It’s My Birthday And I’ll Cry If I Want To

Birthdays are FULL of anxiety for me.

The whole schtick with birthdays has always seemed like forced fun. Randoms on Facebook, you haven’t seen or spoken to in years, wishing you a happy birthday… what is the point? It is an empty gesture with no sincerity, it really bothers me. I feel the same way about birthday cards, what an absolute waste of time, money and resources. I appreciate people I know and care about saying happy birthday, in card form if there is no way to see me on the day, but send me a text, not waste a couple of quid on an unrecyclable card.

Gift giving. The lead up to any holiday where I receive a gift is always gross, people asking me what I want them to buy me, for no real reason, when there is nothing I want. I try and make them believe I, honestly, would prefer not to get anything than having to endure that process, no gift is ever worth it. The awkward moment of getting the gift, opening it in front of them, the uncomfortable thank you, the embarrassment of them giving you way too much, I HATE IT!

My ideal birthday would be to ignore it is happening. This year I worked on my birthday, I managed to get a couple of hours, on my own, without any fuss, I LOVED IT until I came home. My Mum came around, with my niece, to say happy birthday and to give me a bag full of vegan treats, it was perfect, we then got invited over to Ollies parents house, with my Mum, waves of anxiety. My Mum is just as socially awkward as me, we aren’t people people, thank god she brought the child, she could be the conversation buffer. An hour or two of stunted conversation and constant dread from me, it is finally time to go back home. (it wasn’t as bad as it could have been)

Me and Ollie don’t do gifts. Everybody is always shocked and appalled when I say this. What is the point? spending money, we share, to buy gifts that neither of us really want, if we want to get something we just go out and get it when we want it, why do we have to wait for this fake day? This year though, I did ask for something, I asked him to be vegan for the day. He wasn’t thrilled. He missed breakfast because he couldn’t work out what to have, he had planned on bacon, I put a stop to that though. He managed to make it, not that it’s hard, to dinner time. We got a Chinese takeaway, a mountain of spring rolls and curry sauce, He chomped through his meal and once finished we sat slobbing out on the sofa watching some crap on T.V. I hear some crunching in my ear so I turn around and he is absent mindedly scramming down Prawn crackers, I scream “NOT VEGAN!” He drops the cracker and begins to apologise, I didn’t notice what I was doing.

This was my whole point of asking him to be vegan, You don’t notice how many animal products are in things, you become numb to the fact that animals have been killed and abused to be put in your, snack you don’t really want or need. Is it worth it?

I don’t want to be one of those militant vegans, but I think I am.



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