Birthday Blues
06.17.10
Since when did birthdays become a day that you plan yourself? I remember when birthdays used to be events that your family and friends planned for you. It was meant to be a surprise and it was always something that excited you, because those throwing it actually knew you and knew what would thrill you to no end. I remember the first birthday I spent alone, absolutely alone. It was my 21st.
I was still in school in the deep South, soon after I’d been kicked out of my fraternity. My circle of friends at college had virtually vanished and I was living off campus with an older gay man I’d met through a mutual friend. I don’t know where he was that evening, but he was out. Upstairs, there was a party going on. It was a birthday party, because I could hear them singing the song above my head. I wanted to slit them wrists and call it a night, not really but I was certainly feeling down.
However, for some reason, someone from upstairs came down, knocked on the door and asked a question. I don’t recall what the question was but it led to the discovery that it was my birthday as well. Suddenly, I was swept upstairs to the party, surrounded by strangers, who relished in the opportunity to sing the serenade again. I cringed as I maintained a polite decorum and retreated back downstairs as soon as I could. I preferred being alone at that point than surrounded by virtual strangers.
Another factor that added to the misery of that birthday was that I didn’t receive a phone call from my parents, who only lived thirty minutes north of me. It didn’t depress me for our relationship was fairly non-existent as it was. It was just one more reason to feel sorry for myself. In the end, I shed a few tears and committed to never spend my birthday alone again. It’s when I started making my own plans and have ever since.
So for my 32nd birthday, I threw together a few events since I knew most of my friends had conflicting schedules. I wasn’t all that excited about it, but figured I should do something for my birthday and no one was leaping at the chance to plan it for me. For my actual birthday, I decided on happy hour and a movie. Little did I know that it would almost fall completely apart.
I made invitations through Facebook which could have been my fatal flaw. People seem to be more willing to flake from a Facebook invite than from any other. As the theory goes, so did events transpire. I received a few last minute cancellations. I almost called the whole thing off and struggled to fight back tears as I walked alone to the happy hour destination. I wasn’t sure who would show and I was mortified that it might be one friend who was already waiting.
He was there by the time I arrived. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have shown up to my own party. I would’ve gone home and probably cried my eyes out much like I did eleven years ago. I’m so grateful he did. Because over the two hours before the movie, friends trickled in one by one. Even though it was just five friends, they were friends that I was grateful to see, good friends. I don’t know if they realized how much I appreciated their presence.
Only one went on to the movie with me though which was more than I expected anyway. It was a friend that I hadn’t seen in a long time and it was great to reconnect with him. I look forward to spending more time with him when I return. However, I spent the rest of the evening on my own, as other plans crumbled and I received a call from my best friend. She had birthday wishes and tough times of her own.
We commiserated on the phone together, wondering how much of it was others and how much of it was us. I’ve come to the conclusion that I am guilty in the part that I play. Instead of seeking others attention, I will let them fade away. Instead of putting myself in a vulnerable position, I’ll be the first to look the other way. Instead of making the effort to create real, lasting friendships, I’ll bow out at the first sign that there might not be mutual interest in such an endeavor.
However, I know I’m not to be solely blamed for this reality. Others aren’t making the effort either. In an age when you feel insulated by friend counts on Facebook exceeding 500, who needs to make the effort? Then again, what’s the use of being surrounded by virtual strangers. It’s not like I don’t have real friends. I do. I have amazing friends that I cherish and vice versa. The majority live in other cities and the ones here I never see enough. I need to make some changes so that next year I don’t have another bout of the birthday blues.
I already started. I started by making drastic cuts into my Facebook friend count. I deleted 200 friends in one fell swoop. So my audience has drastically shriveled to only those I care the most about. Already I can notice a difference in my profile page. Every face I see is one I want to see, especially in person. Not every person is a die-hard friend, but I’m interested in pursuing those friendships that aren’t rock solid. I couldn’t focus on 300+ friends, so why bother to have such a large count?
There might be some backlash from some of my editing, but I hope those that remain will do the same if they don’t feel the bond of friendship between us. If I cut too deep, I’ll be the first to remedy the situation if the one removed feels motivated enough to bring it to my attention. So often we don’t express how we really feel and who means the most to us, but we can make a difference and challenge the current trend on our profile pages and in our lives. I hope to be a better friend to everyone that remains on my friend list and I hope that they’ll be at my next birthday event.