Today is my birthday

I remember when I was little, birthdays used to bring a special kind of excitement. I would wait for the day like it was something magical—thinking about how people would wish me, how my friends would react, who would post what, and how special the day would feel.

Back then, even small things felt big.

I had a friend once who literally set my birth date as his password so he wouldn’t forget my birthday. That effort still stays in my memory. My friends used to do countdowns too—seven days left, five days left—just to build excitement for my birthday. It made me feel seen. It made me feel important.

Now things are different. Yes, it’s still a big day, but the feeling has changed. People wish me, mostly through Snapchat or messages, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Even my close friends sometimes remember it only because of a reminder or a snap notification.

I’m not complaining. I understand that life gets busy, people get busy, and attention shifts to responsibilities. That’s just how life is.

But I do miss that old version of life.

I miss the excitement that used to build up slowly over days. I miss the countdowns, the silly posts, the screenshots, and the feeling that my birthday actually mattered in people’s small gestures. Maybe it all looked childish from the outside, maybe even “cringe,” but it made me feel special in a way nothing else does now.

And lately, something else has started to feel different too. Last night, I just sat with myself for hours. I don’t even fully know why, but I felt sad thinking about my age increasing. It hit me that I’m getting older, that time is moving forward, and that one day life will end. As a child, we never think like this. We don’t sit and calculate life or feel the weight of growing older—we just wait for birthdays with excitement, not reflection.

Now I try to tell myself it’s still my day. I try to feel that same happiness again. But sometimes, I just feel… quiet. Like the day passes, and I’m watching it instead of living inside it. And maybe that’s what growing up is—realizing that life doesn’t celebrate you the same way anymore, and that time keeps moving whether you feel ready or not.

Still, somewhere inside, I carry those memories. And they remind me that there was a time when even a simple countdown could make me feel like the most important person in the world.

Happy birthday to me