In my twenties and early thirties, birthday bashes were wild, raucous celebrations where everyone from my childhood friend to that random acquaintance from college would pack into a bar, dancing, laughing, and maybe even sharing a kiss or two in the corners. Those nights were memorable in the way a passionate yet toxic romance is: thrilling while they lasted, but too nerve-wracking to maintain over time.
That’s precisely why I choose not to share my birthday on Facebook. It’s not about hiding my age—I doubt many people still list their birth years—but rather the date itself. For my Facebook friends, July 10 is just another day in that post-Independence Day week when everyone’s too hot and too aware that summer is slipping away.
The parties I threw back then, which were supposed to be filled with joy, often morphed into stress-fests. I would send out invites and be paralyzed by the fear that no one would come. If someone declined, I’d feel a pang of disappointment, and during the festivities, I’d find myself caught between enjoying the moment and worrying about who didn’t show up. The chaos of so many familiar faces crammed into one space was overwhelming; I spent my special day fretting rather than celebrating.
I can totally understand why some folks relish the Facebook birthday wishes. I’m not one to grumble about the seemingly trivial “Happy Birthday” messages from old classmates or distant relatives. It’s undeniably nice to feel celebrated with a flood of posts and funny memes. But for me, the deluge of attention adds another layer of stress on a day that should be about enjoyment. Nowadays, I skip throwing parties altogether; managing a crowd transforms what should be a joyful occasion into a job.
And it’s not just the simple act of responding to all those birthday wishes that weighs on me. Each greeting from a long-lost friend brings a cascade of memories—both good and bad. It turns my birthday into a reflection on everything from nursery school to that awkward seminar where I met someone who still haunts my memories. It’s just too much to process.
So, I keep my birth date off Facebook. It’s not that I dislike people or don’t appreciate my friends; rather, I simply want to avoid the social media hullabaloo on a day that’s meant to be peaceful.
Last week, I celebrated my birthday differently. I slept in, treated myself to an iced coffee, squeezed in a workout, and enjoyed lunch and dinner with loved ones. No parties, no gifts, and no resurfacing of old acquaintances from my past. A few close friends remembered and reached out, which was nice, but I had zero expectations or obligations. I was present, enjoying a calm and uneventful day.
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In summary, I opt out of sharing my birthday on Facebook to avoid the anxiety that comes with it. Instead, I enjoy a low-key celebration filled with meaningful moments.