My birthday was Sunday. This year was definitely different. My dad
is no longer here. The past month or so has been a blur, but somehow
I’ve been able to go day by day a bit easier. I guess I had convinced
myself that I was healed. When I woke Sunday morning and walked into the
kitchen to see my mother’s birthday card sitting on the counter I was
slapped with the harsh realization that a card was missing. I keep
forgetting that my life is forever changed. Still last weekend and this
week has been a blur. I went to a party Saturday night and although I
had fun something was off. I guess I should accept that this will be my
life for a while. I already have social anxiety and depression now we
add grief to the mix.
Overall my birthday weekend was nice
and laid back. I got to spend it with awesome people even though a few
were missing that I wish weren’t. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t have
something to rant about though. Just a little something to get off my
chest although I am in no way surprised. That Saturday afternoon I went
shopping with my mother and grandmother. The next day my grandmother had
forgotten that it was my birthday and my mother had to call her to tell
her. Now some might say, “Well, she’s older. Something like that is
bound to happen from time to time.” Sure. Yes. I’d go with that if I
wasn’t always the forgotten granddaughter. She can tell you when my
other two cousin’s birthdays are. Hell my birthday is EXACTLY TO THE DAY
two weeks after my youngest cousins. I have always been forgotten. I am
the black sheep. My other two cousins are treated as gold and I’m only
acknowledged when she wants something. As far as family goes I love her
because she is my grandmother, but that love is out of obligation not
from the heart. I feel like an asshole when I say that, but it’s true. I
have no emotional connection with her. It’s unfortunate, but it’s
reality. A lot of my lack of self esteem comes from being a child and
being teased or ignored by people who were supposed to love me
unconditionally. So naturally, for me, I grow up with this resentment.
Her forgetting my birthday actually had no effect on me until my mother
mentioned it and even then it didn’t have an effect until I realized
that my mother was surprised by it. Really? I’m 34 and for as long as I
can remember I’ve always been an afterthought to this family. I’ve
always been forgotten about. Why the surprise? She’s falling right in
line. It didn’t really put a damper on my day since it’s nothing out of
the ordinary.
As far as everything else I sort of
wish I had done something big, but on the other hand I kind of feel like
those days are over. I’m getting closer and closer to 40, my group of
friends is pretty small, and in all actuality I probably prefer a more
mellow celebration. Here’s to hoping that 34 brings more peace to my
life and something more magical and complete.
-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2016©
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