A few weeks ago I was a guest blogger on my company’s website. I wrote about the “best day of my life.” [Spoiler alert]: I conclude that there are many ‘best days’ and we have no control over when or how they occur, which is perhaps why they are so beautiful, because they just happen. This is important because I believe that certain days shouldn’t be celebrated just because they have been celebrated before–and with that I’m sure I am at least 25% more attractive to anybody who has ever forgotten an anniversary. But, I digress.
Celebrations should be held out of a genuine desire to congratulate and honor the event/person and if it’s not for that reason, then it shouldn’t be celebrated. Go big or go home. I figure ‘Why fake an emotion to cause a mediocre memory?’
My coworkers, friends, and family however do not agree. “Throw a party!, It’ll be fun!, Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate you?” were all questions/comments posed when I insisted I did not want to celebrate my most recent birthday. But, ‘you have to!’ they persisted . So I gave in and held a party to celebrate a time in my life I don’t think needs to be celebrated on just one day. I celebrate the victories when they happen, as they happen. And I know Hallmark would be disappointed but, I can’t be convinced that you should celebrate being alive 1 out of ever 365 days. I think it’s selfish to all the other days that led up to making you, you.
But, I work with students who mean the best so I held my “mis quince” balloon bouquet with pride. I said “thank you” with every wish granted on my birthday and tried my hardest to mean it because punishing the best of intentions is far worse than celebrating a birthday that’s already been celebrated.
Let’s file this under: Fake it til you make it and call it a day.