When I was young I loved my birthday. I eagerly counted down the days before I could become "all powerful". Before I headed off to school, my mother would arm me with an enormous button which read. "It is my birthday I can do whatever I want". Although I am certain this made my teachers snicker, in theory this line perfectly described the day in my mind.
On my birthday I was able to select what I wanted for dinner, the type of cake and ice cream I wanted and was even allowed to bring treats to school. But wait, the V.I.P. treatment did not stop there. When it was my birthday I did not have to help set the table or clean up after dinner. I could smugly look upon my siblings while they helped prepare the table for my special feast. "Don't forget the red plate" I would think to myself.
Now I am older, birthdays are a great reminder I do not need one special day set aside to know I am special. Although it is nice to be remembered and have people fuss over you; birthdays sometimes don't feel much different from any other day of the week. This is not because birthdays are no longer a big deal, but because the important people in my life make me feel special the other 364 days of the year too. Birthdays are cause for self reflection. Birthdays are as much about allowing others to celebrate you as allowing yourself to celebrate you.