Birthdays: Ukraine vs. USA

Happy Birthday to me! Yep, it has indeed been another year of my life. It’s funny how my brain stopped registering my birthdays after my 18th one. It is almost like the one after that never happened. Maybe they didn’t - maybe this is a part of the TV Show where Netflix asks you Are You Still Watching? Existential crisis aside - we are all going to die one day so there is that.

Growing up I had the best birthdays on the street. No, I am serious: my birthday parties had scenarios and well thought out games and fun activities. Oh, you think I was that Type A person since the early age? Please! I was spoiled rotten from the very beginning, so the responsibility of kickass parties were on my mom’s todo list every year. I think, at some point, my grandma was the one helping me pick the right outfit. I am telling you: I had the whole team of highly skilled professionals in house and it was rather nice.

My usual birthday parties included guests (duh), a table filled with delicious home cooked food (by a masterful chef, aka my grandma), different generic games like ‘who can cut the gift from the string of gifts while wearing a blindfold’ (child safety 101: do not try to replicate in real life), and some more serious games like ‘can you draw Alisa without looking at her?’ Wow, my birthday parties were too much… #ThanksMom

The thing that bugged me the most about my amazing parties is that there was a lot of planning involved on our part, a lot of party favors for my guests, a ton of prepped food… All my guests had to do is to show up and ask their parents to pick up a gift. At the end of every party my family was exhausted, I was happy, my guests were waiting for the next one.

I believe around my 14th birthday we decided to stop with the whole party extravaganza and do something small just for us. It was a nice change for me and I think even a nicer one for my mom and grandma. My birthdays when I was in college were stressful: I always wanted to celebrate with people but since I had to organize everything, purchase and cook food, and pay for the entertainment - it was always a stressful day, followed by the next day where I counted up my expenses and slowly felt my hairs turning gray.

When I first came to the US and was introduced to the concept where on your birthday you are actually the one being attended to, I was thrilled. My first birthday in the States (I was turning 17) was not what I would have wanted but I enjoyed it nonetheless. You see, I was leaving the United States the next morning and was 99% sure I won’t ever be coming back (haha!). My high school friends were bringing me toys and cards, giving me sweets and telling me how awesome I am without me giving them anything in return. I didn’t have to cook for the whole school or share a birthday cake. It felt like I was celebrated. It felt like people were happy I was born that day and not just happy to have a three-course meal on me.

I think the idea of celebrating the person is so pure and so right. My last few years in Ukraine a lot of my friends understood and accepted this concept (hence, they were my friends). In the last three years I’ve been living here, I spent my birthdays by receiving love and care and not slaving away in the kitchen (ok- ok, ordering take out). I am still hinting at Andrew that I never had a surprise party thrown for me… He says that it is silly to ask for one and maybe he is right. I don’t know what ideal birthday looks like and I don’t think it exists. But as long as I am surrounded by the people I love it’s always gonna be a darn good day. 

Go hug your mothers today instead of commenting ‘Happy Birthday’ on this post. You can always come back and do that later.

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