I believe I am over the hump of my Birthday PTSD. You would assume correctly if you rehearse to yourself the meaning of PTSD as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. You assume incorrectly if you think this has anything to do with the fact that I am closer to 60 than 50. That fact in and of itself can be a cause of stress. But the "Post" of my disorder started a couple decades ago when one might say I was in the prime of my life.
Without throwing my husband under the bus, let me first say that Trent is the person I give credit for making all my dreams come true. It may have been a wild ride at times, our 25 years together has been full of fantastic adventures, lots of laughs and eye rolls and a fair share of him succeeding in getting a rise out of me.
Which leads us back to my Birthday PTSD. The first signs that Trent didn't give much credence to calendar dates and holidays came early on. I was leaving on a Singles Cruise on Valentine's Day 1999 (Sunday) and invited him over for dinner the night before departure. I didn't expect anything big. We had only been on a few dates after all and we weren't committed. A dollar box of chocolates would have sufficed. But he showed up empty-handed and proceeded to attempt to sign me up for a multi-level marketing company. I left for my singles cruise thinking I would never see him again. After a bit of groveling and him showing up to my work with a huge stuffed teddy bear with bright red bow as a post Valentines gift, I decided he was worth a 2nd chance despite my co-worker, Susan warning me against it.
I've written about my first Mother's Day with Trent and the value of Re-dos. With the Valentines and Mothers' Day issues, I had figured out that adhering to calendar dates for holidays and planning ahead weren't a strength. But some how I thought my birthday would be different. And for the first years, it was.
The most traumatic birthday was probably the one where we had planned to take the family to Tepanyaki for dinner at 6pm. A little backstory is necessary here. I started several birthday traditions with my two oldest children from my first marriage. On their birthdays, they get to choose what I make them for breakfast and dinner. Of the three children Trent and I had together, the youngest two both have birthdays in August. For the 2nd August birthday, Trent had proposed taking the family to Tepanyaki. I explained that this would be unfair and against tradition. It was the kid's choice, not his after all. He responded that said child would choose Tepanyaki if she knew it was a choice and I pointed out that it wasn't fair to have the other 4 kids limited to a home cooked meal that year and to let Lexi choose a restaurant. I compromised by saying that he or I could choose a restaurant instead of a home cooked meal.
So for my birthday without any thought as to where I might like to go for dinner if given the choice, I just suggested we go to Tepanyaki. I liked it fine and knew that Trent had wanted to go there so I was good. I checked with my two adult children and Trent and we agreed that 6pm was the time to meet. Reservations were made and the day looked promising. A tradition my mom established with me and I have continued with my children is to take me to lunch. So this day, my mom and I had enjoyed lunch and headed to Kneaders for my free dessert. We were eating that when Trent called and my birthday trauma began.
Trent had just been invited to a Faculty Student meet and greet at BYU. He had recently started teaching an engineering class there and felt honored to be asked. He informed me that our dinner plans needed to be moved to 4pm. I informed him that I would not be hungry and 4pm as I was still eating lunch and it was after 1pm and that my two working adult children had jobs and would not be able to attend that early. I was informed that I had to choose between him and my kids from my first marriage. I was unhappy to put it mildly. I told him that if the people at BYU knew it was his wife's birthday, they would tell him to take the night off. The gift I wanted was time with him and his help putting together a barn chicken coop I had found at Intermountain Farmers. He remained adamant that he was going to the meet and greet regardless of what I decided. I gave in and we met for dinner at 4pm. The two oldest kids couldn't come and I took home lots of leftovers because I wasn't hungry. I have wondered a time or two if things would have turned out differently, if I had chosen to stick with the plan and do what was best for me (i.e., eat dinner when I was hungry and when my adult children could make it). I wrote it off to a bad birthday and figured it was a fluke.
Not so. The next birthdays were disappointing. One included Trent scheduling himself to be out of town. Another with Trent vetoing my request for crab stuffed salmon from Sam's Club (too expensive) so he made his own stuffing that everyone raved about. I felt it wasn't that we couldn't afford the salmon (after all, Tepanyaki cost a lot more) so I couldn't get over the feeling I wasn't worth it. I compensated by purchasing a 4 pack of crab stuffed salmon myself and eating it for the next several lunches.
I learned to make my own plans with my lunch with my mom, going out with friends who also shared September birthdays and celebrating with my kids. I compensated by celebrating my birthday for weeks before and after the actual day on the calendar. It was what I had control over and it wasn't that Trent didn't celebrate my birthday - but often the gifts arrived after the big day or he asked if we could choose a different day altogether to celebrate it because he had work plans that conflicted.
Last year, I finally put two-and-two together when he asked me if he could fix me a common breakfast skillet for my birthday dinner and I asked myself, "How did I get here?" That meal choice was so far off my list of favorite birthday dinner choices that I was appalled with the offer. I traced it back to days earlier when instead of Trent asking an open-ended question like I do of the kids, (e.g., What would you like for your birthday dinner?) he had asked me, "Would you like me to make you steak for your birthday?" I tend to accommodate others rather than insist things be my way, so when he asked about steak, I agreed. He makes a really great steak and I had bought him a sous vide set up so I was game. It wasn't until he asked about changing the plan from steak to skillet (a potato, scrambled egg, sausage, breakfast concoction we have numerous times a year) that I found myself questioning my state of being. Steak is not even on my top 10 items I would choose myself. Possibly due to my dad being a steak and potatoes kind of guy.
This one was on me. Uggh.
This year as I serve as the Vice-Regent of a State Volunteer organization, I found myself faced with the decision of whether to speak up when the Regent announced that our next meeting would be on my birthday. Turning 57 isn't something I'm feeling the need to celebrate after all. And Trent hadn't said anything about celebrating so was it a big deal to just go along with the Regent's plan? I chose not to speak up and honestly, put the whole issue out of my mind. I couldn't remember when the date was and asked the Regent only to be reminded it was on my birthday and I was shocked I had forgotten. I had to accept that this Birthday PTSD thing is real.
I figured I should let Trent know of the meeting and learned he had plans to surprise me by taking my birthday off of work and spending a couple nights in a hotel. We head tonight and the plan is to go hiking tomorrow on my birthday, be back to the hotel for the Zoom board meeting, and head home the morning after my big day. There's a good part of me that is hoping for an amazing birthday with nothing to add to my PTSD but enough room still exists for me to brace myself for the possible birthday trauma-causing fiasco.
Stay Tuned!
