Birthday

-English Below-

Birthday

Today is my birthday—I’m celebrating it—but it still doesn’t feel good when people say “happy birthday” to me. And that’s because of the word “birthday.” After all, it implies “getting older.” And how frustrating is it that this actually imposes a limitation—because of the age you’re getting—and because everyone congratulates you on it (which, by the way, is super sweet), it’s really hard to explain to people that I’d actually rather not have that.

And as much as I love it when people congratulate me on my birthday, I find it really hard when you congratulate me on turning a year older. And what matters most to me is that when you turn a year older, you reach a certain age, and that age is tied to where you are in life right now. So I’ve turned 37 now, and that means you start doing the math and realize you’re already heading toward the halfway point. If, for example, 100 years is the halfway point of what you’ll eventually reach.

But who’s to say you’ll live to be 100? Maybe I’ll only get to blow out a few more candles—or maybe as many as 150. Who knows! And that’s what I find really tricky about the word “getting older”—because you’re immediately putting a label on it, and that label makes you feel older, and it also means you’re heading toward a certain age where you might start having health issues.

Because how many people say things like, “Yeah, you’re getting older, aren’t you?” and “Yeah, that’s just part of getting older.” And you hear all those stories all around you, so you end up forming a certain image of what it means to grow old. And I don’t like that. Because I decide for myself how I’ll grow old and how I’m growing old.

The English are so good at that—they say “happy birthday” or “fijne geboortedag”—and that’s something I’d like to do more myself, I always try to congratulate everyone on their birthday, but also others, because with our words, we can be so hard on ourselves; we can start to form certain images that don’t yet belong to us and that might never belong to us at all.

I’d like to end on a positive note and focus on the person—not on their age, not on getting older—and I want us all to really think about what we say and how we think, like: “Yeah, once you reach a certain age, you need reading glasses.” “Yeah, I have a hard time getting out of bed because, well, I’m a bit older now, so things don’t come as easily anymore.”

Because we see this all around us, we tend to accept it as true. Words like these have such a big impact on our lives—and on our bodies—which is why it’s so important that we pay close attention not only to what we say, but also to what we wish for others. And that’s why I’m wishing myself a very happy birthday today.

With love,

Priscilla

Birthday

Today is my birthday; I’m celebrating my special day, but still, it doesn’t feel quite right when people say “happy birthday” to me. And that has everything to do with the word “birthday” itself. In Dutch, we use the term “verjaren,” which is directly tied to aging. And how strange is it that the idea of aging instantly implies a kind of limitation—because of the age you’re turning? Even though people mean it so kindly (and I truly appreciate that), it’s still hard to explain that I’d actually prefer not to be congratulated that way.

As much as I love it when people celebrate my birthday, I really struggle with being congratulated on my birthday. For me, it’s all about the fact that aging comes with a number—and that number tends to say something about where you’re expected to be in life. I just turned 37, and that automatically sets off this mental calculation—you’re getting close to the halfway point. If, say, 100 years is the number you’re aiming for.

But who says I’ll live to be 100? Maybe I only have a few more candles left to blow out… or maybe I’ll blow out 150. Who knows! And that’s exactly what I find difficult about the word “aging”— becauseit labels you with something. It can make you feel older, and it implies that you’re heading into a phase where you’re more likely to experience physical problems.

How often do people say things like, “Yeah, you’re getting older,” or “That’s just part of getting older”? We hear these things all the time, and they gradually shape our mindset about aging. And I’m not okay with that. Because I decide what aging means to me—and how I choose to age.

The English language actually handles this part beautifully—they say “happy birthday,” which literally means “happy day of birth,” and that’s a sentiment I’d love to embrace more in my own life. I always try to congratulate people on their day of birth, and not just on getting another year older. Because our words are powerful. The way we speak to ourselves—and to others—can create ideas and expectations that aren’t ours, and perhaps never will be.

So I want to end this on a positive note: I want us to focus on the person, not their age. Not the number. Not the aging process. I want us to pay attention to how we speak and how we think. We say things like, “Yeah, at a certain age you need reading glasses,” or “Getting out of bed is hard these days—must be getting older.”

But when we hear these things often enough, we start to accept them as truth. And these words don’t just affect our mindset—they affect our bodies as well. That’s why it’s so important to be mindful of what we say, and also of what we wish for one another.

So today, I wish myself a beautiful, joyful birthday

With love,

Priscilla