Do you want to ring in your birthday with a bang or a whimper? Sophia our writers from 7PQRS discuss her very distinct perspective.

“I’VE BEEN TALKING FOR THE PAST 60 DAYS ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY”

Didn’t you hear I had a huge birthday this year?

People often ask how you’re feeling about your birthday with a cocked head and concerned tone, as if you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness, which is the only negative aspect of milestones in my opinion.

I’m not even close to that age. We’ve moved on. In 2021, I began arranging my celebration.

I’ve discovered the hard way that if you want others to be enthusiastic about your birthday, you must be excited yourself.

It’s still a day where you’ll have to eat and dress, so why not make them chocolate fudge cake with sequins?

Why hide when you could be content with another year of life?

I had heart palpitations at the prospect of hiring a club with a DJ and 200 close friends, partly because I don’t have 200 pals. My notion of fun is to gather all of my closest friends and family around a table.

Therefore, I booked the private dining room at Dubai party center for the big day. I do a fantastic imitation of someone who is genuinely surprised and hasn’t been banging on about my birthday for the previous 60 days/threatening.

Bringing people from diverse sections of your life together might be intimidating: school, university, work, local friends, random ex-flatmates, and just random ones.

But having them all in one place is thrilling: they’ve all come to see me!

My friends arrived from all across the country and beyond. They decorated the room by the balloons set up bought from 7PQRS event agency Dubai.  In addition, they baked my favorite cake, made a music that only I could enjoy, and made me laugh so hard that I had to rush to the bathroom.

I felt very fortunate to have them, even if I had to close my eyes while paying the payment. When I was eating salt and vinegar McCoys the next morning, I didn’t feel nearly so fortunate.

But hold on a second. There’s more to come.

Because so many of my friends have given me presents, I’ve extended my birthday celebrations with yoga handstand courses, trapeze lessons, and theatre dinners.

In fact, my friend, who gave birth to twins the weekend before my birthday (how inconvenient), has also scheduled us for dinner at birthday party venue in Dubai, extending the festivities even further. Please don’t hate me since it’s a lot.

Please give yourself a big, happy, all-singing, all-dancing birthday as well: you deserve it.

It’s fine to celebrate other people’s birthdays. There’s no issue at all. A writhing tremor of fear runs through my bones as I celebrate my own birthday. To tell you the truth, it makes me feel quite uneasy.

  • Is it really worth it to draw attention to myself just because I was born?
  • Do you expect people to buy me gifts?

Putting together disparate groups of friends who don’t know each other and then worrying about if they’ll dislike each other (and condemn me for my friend choices)?

  • Are you serious?
  • What’s the point of that?

When I was a kid, my twin sister and I were permitted to have a party every two years, so we would spend the previous 23 months planning the next one.

  • Sleepover?
  • What about a pool party?
  • What’s better than a pool party and a sleepover?

The biannual celebrations turned non-annual, as we grew older. They came to a total halt. Because we had switched schools, our new pals lived at least an hour away, making logistics difficult.

Until we were 18, birthday celebrations consisted of cards, presents, and the ability to choose what to eat for supper. So it’s not like I grew up in a house where birthdays were treated as if they were the equivalent of winning the lotto.

Now that I live on the other side of the world from my family, despite having a large number of friends who celebrate their birthdays with lunches, dinners, weekends away, and trips abroad, all of which I enthusiastically participate in because I enjoy socializing, it’s not something I feel comfortable doing myself.

I flew back to my sister’s house for my final significant birthday. There was no cake, but there was plenty of champagne and painkillers for the morning after.

“What are you planning to do for your birthday when you get back?” my pals here had been bugging me for months.

When I said, “Nothing,” they didn’t believe me. I was terrified that my husband would throw a surprise party merely to get him off my back because one of my friends was so demanding. He’s still moaning two years later that I didn’t properly celebrate my birthday.

With this mindset, a therapist would have a field day. However, do not think I forget about my birthday; I expect to be taken out to a nice dinner and receive a gift from my hubby.

My relatives will send me cards and phone calls, and my pals will send me texts. I’m also not an insensitive jerk; I recognize that there are real reasons why individuals might wish to celebrate the end of another year.

  • But I’ll never be one of those people who starts talking about my birthday months in advance.
  • Or who plans a week-long extravaganza for my birthday that is all about me, me, me?
  • Or who names their party after a festival, replete with wristbands and admission fees?

That’s OK. I’ll be the first to RSVP and the last to go because I’ll be the first to arrive and the last to depart.