Underneath my yellow skin

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You Say It’s Your Birthday; It’s My Birthday, Too!

It’s my birthday–or will be by the time you read this. I’m turning forty-six, which is amazing to me on many levels. One, I never thought I’d make it to thirty, and I passed that a long time ago. Two, time really does go faster the older you get*, and I swear I was thirty-five not more than a year ago. Funnily enough, I don’t feel like I’m in my twenties or younger, but I’ve always felt as if I were an old soul in a young body when I was that age. I related better to older people. I always have, and I probably always will. I should amend and say that I relate best to people with old souls, which sounds pretentious, but I think you know what I mean.

I’ve written before that I hated my birthday for decades because I hated being reminded that I was alive. For years, I was convinced that I should be dead, so every birthday was just a slap in the face. In addition, it reminded me how I’ve contributed nothing to the world at large, so I hated it with every fiber of my being. I wouldn’t tell anyone when my birthday was, and I refused to celebrate it. In a Let’s Play that I recently watched, one guy asked another when his birthday was, and he answered, ‘Summer’. They (the first guy and the third guy of the trio) had to prod him to get an actual date, and when he finally said it, they were like, “Who answers that way?” I immediately thought, “I do!” Or at least I did. If anyone asked when my birthday was, I’d never answer. For online sites that required a birthday, I’d put in a false one. I still do, but now it’s because I think it’s silly to ask for someone’s birthday online.

Side note: You know how on Facebook they notify your friends when your birthday is up? One day in January, I woke up to a wall of well-wishers, and I was like, “What the hell?” before remembering that I’d given a false date for my birthday. I also switched my birthday notification to private because I felt kinda weird being wished a happy birthday when it wasn’t my birthday. This year, on that same date, FB wished me a happy birthday, and I had forgotten I’d given a fake date and was wondering why. When I remembered, I giggled because it was just so damn amusing to me.

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