My First And Last Birthday Party

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The celebration of my birthday has usually never really been my thing, but it does not mean I do not appreciate being acknowledged for having one. Having narcissistic family members and narcissistic friends means that birthdays will usually be sabotaged in some manner because these types of people just cannot stand to celebrate me. It is disappointing to say the least, but I actually have grown thick enough skin to expect it.

When I First Knew Something Was Wrong With My Birthday

The first time I recognized that something was wrong with my birthday as a celebration was when I was three. For some time, I inwardly knew that I was being iced out of my family’s life because my mother was pregnant at the time. Everyone was awaiting the birth of my new sibling-to-be. I was not very happy about this fact because I already knew that I was not my mother’s favorite person.

Despite me being the only child that my mother had and the first child between my parents, my mother demonstrated very early on in my life that she did not like me very much. It was difficult enough trying to obtain the nurturing love from her that I was supposed to receive, but now that she was pregnant, my mind could not conceive how she could love me any less, but for some reason I feared that she actually could because a new baby was coming.

The Fiasco That Became A Party

It was my aunt’s idea to plan a birthday party for me. It was to be my third birthday but my first birthday party. Neither of my parents agreed to a birthday party for me originally, but after pleading from my aunt and an argument designed by my aunt to appease to my parent’s wills which included a statement about how it was unfair for me to be treated differently than other children my age, my parents acquiesced to my aunt’s request and allowed her to plan me a huge birthday party.

My parents were not even on the same page originally. My mother wanted a birthday party for me, but my dad did not. He believed that parties were for show and attention. He also believed that I did not need to be put on a pedestal to be celebrated, but my mother saw it differently. Since my dad maintained dominance in the household, and my mother did not like rocking the boat, she agreed but ultimately used her sister (my aunt) to appeal to my dad’s sensibilities. Specifically, it was my mother’s plan to give me a party, but she used her sister (my aunt) to make it happen.

Birthday Party Drama

I do not know how I knew that something was off about this party. I suppose it was discernment and instinct, but I knew something was off. Although it was supposed to be a birthday celebration for me, I instinctively knew that the party itself had nothing to do with me. The party was more about how my mother and aunt were going to be publicly viewed by others because they were throwing the party for me. From being around them through all of the party planning, I became instinctively aware that the party was mine in name only. Otherwise, I was having a birthday without truly being celebrated.

When the day of the festivities began drawing closer, I remember my aunt taking me for a walk through the neighborhood as she gave her friends and children that I did not even now invitations to my birthday party. Back then, I did not know the name for my personality type, but I knew that I did not like being around large groups, and just the thought of having to be around a gathering even as a young child spurned severe anxiety within me. I did not want my aunt to invite others to my party. I just wanted it to be the people who lived in my house who were invited – my mom, dad, and grandparents.

My aunt, however, was able to sway her young adult friends to find children to invite. On one of my aunt’s friend stops, I met another child who shared a birthday with me. She was having a party too, and her party was also planned on the same day and around the same time as my party. It turns out that most people who turned my aunt’s invitation down to my party had already made plans to attend the other child’s party. Yet, my aunt was insistent on changing minds, and because she was persuasive law student and had so many friends, she was able to sway a lot of people who happened to be mainly cousins of mine. She used the “blood is thicker than water” adage as way to coerce people to attend my party over the other child’s party. This caused a lot of problems.

The problem was that some of my aunt’s friends were also relatives of the child’s mother who shared the same birthday with me. For whatever reason, some of my aunt’s friends presumed that my aunt had planned a scheme to hijack the party of the child by stealing guests. Thus, a war began, and the people that were originally invited to my party chose sides. Most of them chose the side of the other child that shared the same birthday as mine. So, days before my birthday party, a division began in my neighborhood over the birthday parties of a two-year-old and a three-year-old. Sadly, at the time, I was somewhat unaware of the repercussions that this division would have on me in the future. I was going to have a birthday party that was really not going to be a happy one.

Weird Party Vibes

On the day of the celebration, I recall my aunt and two other relatives making such a fuss about the decorations and getting everything ready. My mother was no where to be found. I recall her being somewhat sick. I am assuming that maybe she had morning sickness, but I do not remember exactly. I just recall that my mother was not truly present during my party. I believe that she was angry with my aunt for making such a fiasco of the birthday festivities, and my mother did not want my dad to find out about all of the drama.

Ultimately, my mother wanted my aunt to fix things. My aunt did what she could do, but she was a free spirit and chose to make the best of things. Little did I know that my mother felt that my party had been ruined because so many people that had been invited had chosen to attend the birthday party of another child. My mother did not make much of an appearance during the party to the point that I remember my aunt’s friends asking of my mother’s whereabouts. Otherwise, I could tell that there was a lot else going on within the undercurrents of the atmosphere.

I just knew that there was something off in the atmosphere and the energy of the people that gathered caused me to feel some serious anxiety. I was completely overwhelmed and uncomfortable. I felt like my home was being overtaken by strangers. Later on, my dad said that he really believed that I was uncomfortable with the amount of different people that were in our home because it was always just my mother and father with occasional visits from immediate family that were familiar to me. So, a crowd of strangers to me most likely took me away from my zone of comfort. Indeed, it must have been exactly as my dad said because I recall attempting to sabotage my own birthday party.

Birthday Sabotage

It began with the decorations. Each time decorations were placed in strategic locations, I was caught tearing them down. Each time there were children that I considered strangers (even though they were my cousins) playing with my toys, I tried to take them from them. I was caught by my aunt scolding several people, and my mother punished me. Supposedly, these people were there to celebrate me, but I hardly felt celebrated. I felt used. I felt more or less like a prop, and the more crowded it became in our house, the more anxiety I felt. I really wanted all of the people to leave. So I acted out hoping that they would feel unwelcomed, but that did not seem to work. I was invisible and insignificant. How were they actually there for me? (Obviously I forgot that I was a barely out of the toddler stage. So what did I know?)

When it came time for the cake, I became angry that all attention seemed was focused on everyone else. My mother and aunt seemed to put the focus of the larger sheet cake on the visitors. It seemed that they were being celebrated. Maybe this part of my memory is only from my perspective, but this is exactly how I remember it.

As everyone was singing happy birthday, I was standing outside of the circle as if to be a bystander of my own party. How were they singing to me but gathered around in a circle around the cake? Did anyone even see me? How were they allowed to blow out the candles on the cake that celebrated me? I felt like I was nothing more than a prop who had been forgotten.

I clearly did not get it at the time. I did not recognize this as being a part of some ritual. I thought the birthday person was supposed to blow out the candles. I thought the birthday person received others singing the song. I had seen it done before. Yet, here I was being crowded out of my own celebration. I recall feeling a heat rise within me. So I pushed through the crowd, took my hand and smashed the cake.

My mother grabbed me and took me out of the room with a quickness. She gave me a spanking. She yelled at me so badly that I immediately felt shame and embarrassment. It was my birthday!!! What was happening? Sure, I deserved punishment for being a bratty three-year-old, but I wish that adults would have empathically thought about my perspective. I wish that someone could have seen what I was battling in my little body. How did I know that a birthday party for me was not really even about me?

When The Party Is Over

By the end of the party, there was a smaller cake that was dedicated to me. This cake was said to be mine although I do not recall actually having a chance to eat it. I just remember having to take a multitude of pictures where I pretended to blow out candles and open presents that I was not actually allowed to open. The entire party was for show, and even as a three-year-old I recognized this.

I remember the feeling that I had as if I were peering through the slits of my eyes watching everything happen around me in slow motion. I felt a hurt on the inside of my gut that I did not readily understand, but instead of letting the tears fall down my face, I allowed them to rain down within my body. I let the tears fall on the inside – something that I had already grown accustomed to doing when I felt wounded on the inside.

Later on when the party was ending, I remember my dad showing up after work. I remember being able to determine his mood based on his facial expressions, body language, and overall demeanor. He was smiling. He recognized that it was my birthday. His smile made me happy. I ran to him. He picked me up and gave me a hug. He sang happy birthday to me, and I knew the song was actually for me. I remember feeling the tears I had on the inside turn into a dried smile.

Future Birthdays

My aunt thanked my dad for allowing her to throw me a party. She mentioned that it was hard work. She was not sure if she wanted to plan a party again. My dad did not know all of the drama surrounding the party, however. So he may have only thought her comment was a superficial one. I do not know.

The overall party made me feel very tired and broken on the inside. I was tired because of feeling as if my energy had been drained by the presence of so many people. I felt broken because I felt misunderstood in a way that I knew others would never understand. There was so much about this party that was beyond me, but I was so observant that I remember exactly what was occurring right on down to the drama surrounding the party of the other child.

I would later find out that most of the people who were invited to my party did not show up over the loyalty they had to the other mother. Long after my party, a few adults were still in a quandary over my aunt’s faux pas. Yet, she somehow patched things up with her friends and the mother of the other child who shared my birthday.

Unfortunately, this did nothing for me years later because that same child would become a viable part to issues caused in my life that still have lasting effects today. Nevertheless, I had made it through my first birthday party that proved to be my last. I would have a sheet cake for my 10th birthday, but thankfully, there was no party. In fact, I never had another birthday party again.