Birthdays can be a bit of a mixed bag, can’t they?
It’s that one day when people who hardly ever check in suddenly remember you’re alive. Notifications flood in—generic wishes, copy-paste messages, a few half-hearted emojis. They say, “Hope you have a great day,” and then—poof!—they’re gone.
It’s like an annual performance where everyone pretends to care, even though most wouldn’t notice if you quietly slipped away. It’s amusing how one date on the calendar makes people act like they’ve always been in your corner.
But what about the day after? Did everyone just forget again?
Sometimes, I really dislike all that birthday attention. Why are you acting like you care? Sure, they know your name and maybe your age, but do they know your struggles, your dreams, what kept you tossing and turning at 2 a.m. last week?
Those “hope you’re doing well” messages hit differently when you realize most of them haven’t bothered to ask how you’ve been—in months, or even years.
People show up with cake emojis and one-liners, but where are they when life isn’t all confetti and filters? Where are they on the tough days, when you feel like you’re falling apart?
That’s the real kicker—realizing some folks only remember you when the calendar nudges them. And maybe that’s the saddest part.
So we learn to keep our expectations low. We smile, say thank you, and pretend it all means something—because admitting it feels hollow makes us seem bitter or ungrateful.
Even though all we really wanted was a little sincerity instead of a show.
For a fleeting moment, we feel seen, heard, appreciated. But then the day ends, and so do the messages. Most are just enough to be courteous—not nearly enough to show presence.
It’s like we’ve all agreed to play this game, where the date means more than the relationship.
Still, there’s a bittersweetness to it. We cling to hope—even just for a heartbeat—that someone might actually mean it.
Not extravagant gestures. Not floods of messages. Just one heartfelt conversation.
One person who remembers more than the date.
Someone who sees you—beyond the birthday post.
So we endure the performance.
Clapping politely for the applause we never asked for—
hoping, in all the clamor, a genuine voice breaks through.