I'm glad to read all of these opinions of birthdays.
I turned 37 a couple of weeks ago, and as the years go by birthdays get harder. Not because I hate getting older, but because I hate this growing list of things I haven't done yet... I'm single, I don't have a "real" career, I'm STILL not over my depression....it's a very long list.
I worked on my birthday, which I always rather enjoy. Because it was a late shift, a couple of friends made me lunch so we could celebrate the day. Their kids were so excited to see me, and they made me a beautiful cake. A big part of me never wants to celebrate birthdays, because I don't like the attention and I don't think I'm worth it. But these last few years I have been softening a bit. It does feel good to know that some people love me enough to want to celebrate the day that I was born...to show me that they are glad I am a part of their lives. No big parties, no crazy drunken wildness, just good food and cake and laughs and hugs. It's good for me, because I get so depressed that I forget there are people out there who do in fact love me.
You're right...cake and a song one day a year don't change the pain that might accompany every other day of the year. The great thing about being an adult is that you can choose how you spend that day (as well as all the rest!), and with whom.
"I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in."