The last several years have left me unenthused about celebrating my birthday to any great extent. I always did something a bit special, like going to get a dinner I wouldn’t do every week, but it was never much. I think it was the easiest approach when I was by myself.
However, this year just felt different. I turned 25, and wanted to make it feel special. While nothing I did was out of the ordinary—disc golfing, a baseball game, and homemade pizza—telling myself it was special made it better. I brought Erin to the disc golf course I frequent for the first time, and shot a really good round. I upgraded our tickets for the baseball game to be in row 6 off the right field baseline, and managed to catch a ball as a result. And the pizza was excellent alongside the brownies for dessert.
There’s something to sharing events, and naming them as special, that I’ve discounted in my adult life. While I don’t relish others trying to make a big deal out of my birthday, that doesn’t mean I should make it less fun for me. I hope to remember this in years to come. Even if I can’t manage to do anything special some year, the day can still be special if I choose to make it so.