Let me start by providing some necessary context: First, I do not actually know if I will ever get married; second, I know even less if I will ever have kids.
Do I want to get married? That’s a loaded question. I know I do want to meet the person that makes me want to get married. I know I will only choose to share my life with a man if he enriches it and sprinkles it with passion and care; not because I think I need a man to make my life easier or because that’s the societal norm.
Do I want kids? That’s a tough one. I don’t actually know. I think that’s my answer. I say this quite often – I think if I meet my person and we’re able to have kids = I’ll have kids. If I meet my person and we’re unable to have kids = I won’t have kids. I have never wanted them enough to do it on my own nor put myself through financial and physical strain. And honestly, I feel like I am too existential…I really don’t think this world is good enough for my hypothetical children.
So what does this all have to do with me taking my birthday parties seriously? Stay with me…celebration itself, I’ve realized, is a form of rebellion.
As a woman in this reality, we are celebrated for very little. Instead, we are expected of very much. We now live in a world where if a married man and woman both work, the woman still has to carry on the wifely duties that of her predecessors did. Now, let’s say that woman is a mother, on top of that. Bearing both the mental and laundry load is a double burden.
Men (and some trad women) will throw in our faces that we wanted to work and have autonomous rights and that we are in this position because of feminism and equality. But please, explain to me like I am five…how any of this is equal? A woman earning more than her husband and yet the expectation is still for her to come home and put dinner on the table.
I may never have a crazy career accomplishment – not that I don’t want that but it’s not my driving force (I don’t dream of labor and I have nothing against wealth in itself, I just wish we could exist in a world where opulence and income inequality didn’t mean humanitarian crises and the difference between life and death). I may never be remarkable for anything but that’s the point – I wish to be celebrated anyway.
As a woman in this reality, you are only celebrated conditionally – either based off merit or fulfilling traditional roles. And that, my friends, is why I take my birthday parties so damn seriously.
To be honest though, I actually faltered with this mentality a bit when it came to my 30th birthday. In no way do I regret my solo 4-country, 3-week, Euro trip that I am so proud of and would not go back in time to change a thing. But I would be lying if that trip wasn’t, at least somewhat, a result of me asking myself “Who am I to ask people to spend time and money on me for my birthday?”
Would I be asking myself that if it was my wedding? My baby shower? My PhD graduation or book launch???
The answer is simply no.
For someone who tries to consciously fight against the status quo, I had actually internalized all those societal expectations. Thank god for being as vivacious as I am, though…all that internalization simply led me to galavanting all over Europe.
So the question we must now ask ourselves is…why? Why is it that when it comes to being a woman, my right to celebration is through achievement or my tie to a man or my womb? We deserve to be celebrated for our mere existence, because that is truly the miracle of life!
I have consciously made the decision to celebrate myself for simply existing. For making it another year around the sun. For everyone to take my birthday parties as seriously as they would my wedding, baby shower, PhD graduation or book launch. I know this seems silly, as there will be many more birthdays than people would (normally) have weddings or babies (I think) but it just comes down to the principle.
Do you only see me worthy of celebrating if I have achieved one of these binary expectations – girl boss capitalist overachiever or blushing bride trad wife on the road to mother dearest?
Now don’t get me wrong – I will always make my birthdays WORTHY of celebrating. Of your time and presence. I’m not trying to drag anyone out all the way for just dinner and a drink. There will be a theme, there will be a show, there will be a twist, a celebration. Jubilee. Unfiltered joy. A will to live will be in attendance, grinning and bearing it will not be on the guest list.
It also doesn’t have to only be about me. I would love to throw others parties for their seemingly “small” feats. A friend who got their green card. A friend who got into business school (who cares about what you accomplish after that, that was hard in itself!) A friend who finally moved out. A friend who quit a job. If you tell me you want to celebrate it, I’m there!
And so, I strongly urge everyone, but women in particular, to celebrate themselves. To not shrink when faced with this silly fork in the road where you are forced to pick between 2 paths that do not define you. To start living the way you want to live and celebrate the way you deserve to be celebrated.
The world is changing…in fact, it’s already changed. This is simply my way of enforcing the status quo – that there isn’t one anymore. Every birthday, every moment of joy claimed for no reason other than existing, is a small act of rebellion in a world where we have so much to rebel against still. So I will choose to celebrate myself and those around me, loudly and fully, and I invite you to do so, too. And to my next party.
