Birthdays, to my mind, are special. We’re recognized without doing anything impressive. No one close to me was also born on November 26, so the day belongs to me. Some years it falls on Thanksgiving, guaranteeing family members will celebrate with me.
Looking at the calendar a few days before this year’s birthday, I was concerned. None of the celebratory meals to which friends had invited me fell on the actual day. Could my birthday feel special if I spent it alone?
Maybe, if I made it a self-care day.