Not Birthday-ing Hard Enough

I turned 40 yesterday. I don’t mind getting older, it’s happening all the time. After all, I’m older than I’ve ever been. And now I’m even older. And now I’m even older. And now I’m even older. I’m older than I’ve ever been, and now I’m even older. And now I’m older still.¹

That said, I do find that I’m bothered by my birthday. I don’t remember when I started feeling this way, but at some point I began to feel pressure to enjoy my birthday. Like, “this is supposed to be a special day and I’d damn well better enjoy myself, because it only comes around once a year.” And of course it’s hard to enjoy a day when you feel that way. And then comes the guilt because I feel like I’m not “properly enjoying” my birthday. You can probably see how this spirals.

I suppose that’s why my preferred way to spend my birthday for many years now has been to go on a hike. If my birthday falls on a workday, I take the day off.² Before my kid was born, I’d go by myself. For the last two years—since he’s been old enough to go—I like to take him with. It’s nice because it marks the day, although not in any particularly special way because we go on non-celebratory hikes as well.

If people ask, “what did you do on your birthday?” saying, “I went on a hike,” is a lot better than, “nothing,” which might make me seem like a curmudgeon (I am) or like I’m sensitive about my age (I’m not). It does a good job of mitigating the pressure I feel both internally and externally to enjoy my birthday. Hikes don’t require a ton of planning, as opposed to a party, and I find them easy to enjoy—even if things go wrong, like it’s rainy or something, that’s part of the adventure. Exercise and fresh air are always welcome. That didn’t work out this year, but we’ll probably make up for it in a few days, once the 4^th of July holiday has passed.

I have the same problem with Christmas, but I have yet to find the Christmas equivalent of a birthday hike.