Growing up, my birthday parties always had a theme. I barely remember the details of the earliest celebrations, but I can still vividly recall the happiness and excitement of those days.
Each year, my mom ensured I was celebrated and felt good about my parties. A cake, a few decorations and family there to make me feel special were fundamental to a good birthday, as were the presents which kept evolving as I aged — starting with dolls and ending with books.
It all looked superficial, but my birthdays reflected the person I was becoming. Each present and party theme mirrored my views of the world and how they evolved into a wider perspective. Becoming one year older doesn’t substantially alter the world, but it was still meaningful to have input on my parties and share what my birthday should be like.
Birthday parties might seem like an inconsequential tradition, but they reinforce the connection we all need. In this era of social media and digital lives, it’s hard to deny the power of face-to-face celebration and time spent with family and friends.
I’ll never forget my 13th birthday in Puerto Rico because it marked the end of an era in my life. It was the transition from my childhood to my teenage years and the last birthday I had before I had to face more mature problems.
I had a Wonder Woman-themed party with a group of family members at Applebee’s. It felt like just another celebration, but little did I know it would be the last time I celebrated my birthday with my great-grandparents, who had been a central part of my life.
I grew up in Puerto Rico surrounded by the love and affection of my extended family. Most of my relatives have been present in my life since I was a kid — so leaving them behind to move to Philadelphia after I turned 13 was difficult.
Within a year, my aunts, grandparents, cousins and great-grandparents disappeared as I sought opportunities in Philadelphia. It took me a while to process that my parents would be the only guests at my future birthday parties.
I celebrated my 14th birthday without the warmth of my family back in Puerto Rico. It was hard because it was the first time I felt the absence of those I loved during a birthday, and I struggled to get used to not being around them during such an important day.
While it was still a celebration, it felt different because the company had changed. The party was a lot quieter and uncrowded. I missed the energy and the laughter of my whole family surrounding me and couldn’t stop thinking about the advice my great-grandparents would’ve given me.
We never know when the last time we will see or spend time with someone. I never thought there would be a birthday without my great-grandpa, or the rest of my family. This made me realize birthday parties are meant to dictate the meaning of life, not only our growth.
The theme of my 14th birthday party was unicorns and mermaids, which is the opposite of mature and didn’t quite match the complicated time I was navigating. However, what truly mattered was my mom’s effort to make the celebration fun for me, regardless of the number of guests.
I now see birthday parties as more than just a celebration of age — they’re a reminder to value the time we have with the people who matter most.
Every year brings growth and marks another meaningful moment in our lives. My 14th birthday taught me that life is short and that birthdays are about more than presents or cake — they’re about creating memories and cherishing time with the people we hold dear.
The beauty of birthday parties lies in their uncertainness. They exist on the edge of meaning, and yet they hold so much. It’s the one time a year when we are permitted to be a little selfish, a little silly and to be surrounded by people we love. The candles on the cake, the laughter — these are the moments that help us pause and say, “We are here. We are together. And for today, that is enough.”
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