Your Birthday Should Be a Personal Holiday
I love birthdays. I mean it. To me, they are more than an excuse to send a quick text with a confetti emoji. I love birthdays in the real way, with all the fuss: the phone call, the gathering, the cake. All the small details that remind you that you are special.
At home, I am the birthday captain. You can hear my husband agreeing with that statement every time I mention that. I always remind my four men whose birthday it is, whom they should be calling. I don’t stop at the obvious ones, like close family members. I make sure they call anyone who should be celebrated.
Because to me, birthdays matter. A text is nice, I’m not saying it isn’t. But birthdays deserve more than a thoughtless “HBD!” sent to check a box in an unwritten to-do list. Birthdays deserve the real connection and the effort. That effort is the whole thing.
Because to me, birthdays matter. A text is nice, I’m not saying it isn’t. But birthdays deserve more than a thoughtless “HBD!” sent to check a box in an unwritten to-do list. Birthdays deserve the real connection and the effort. That effort is the whole thing.
I have always believed that birthdays should be celebrated. Not in an over-the-top way. No one needs a marching band on their special day. Although if you want one, go for it! To me, any celebration that reminds you that it’s your day is enough. That idea fits deeply with what Heidi Carey has always been about. Finding the right detail to elevate even the quiet moments.
For years, my tennis friends and I would celebrate each other’s birthdays. We would play tennis, have lunch, give gifts, and eat cake. Not just any cake, either. A cake called “The Princess Cake” from a local bakery, because birthday cake is not a casual matter. There are standards.
This happened seven or so times a year with that group alone. Add in family, close friends, godchildren, old friends, and all the calls I make on birthdays, and suddenly birthdays become practically a second job. And yet that is exactly the point.
I make time for birthdays because I believe people should be celebrated. They should be remembered. I believe one day a year should feel a little different from all the other days when everyone is answering emails, making dinner, folding laundry, feeding the dog, and wondering why there are always more dishes.
For years, my tennis friends and I would celebrate each other’s birthdays. We would play tennis, have lunch, give gifts, and eat cake. Not just any cake, either. A cake called “The Princess Cake” from a local bakery, because birthday cake is not a casual matter. There are standards.
This happened seven or so times a year with that group alone. Add in family, close friends, godchildren, old friends, and all the calls I make on birthdays, and suddenly birthdays become practically a second job. And yet that is exactly the point.
I make time for birthdays because I believe people should be celebrated. They should be remembered. I believe one day a year should feel a little different from all the other days when everyone is answering emails, making dinner, folding laundry, feeding the dog, and wondering why there are always more dishes.
A birthday is one day when you should not feel like you are last on the list. You should feel appreciated. You should feel like someone made an effort. It is not just another square on the calendar.
You should take the day. Or at least part of the day. Or, at the very least, a civilized hour with cake. A birthday should feel like a personal holiday.
