I Asked My Therapist Why I Don’t Care About My Birthday

The answer made me question everything I think about myself

Photo by Floppycats

Last week was my birthday.

I didn’t celebrate.

I didn’t post anything. I didn’t expect messages. I treated the day like any other: woke up, worked, trained, read, slept.

I’ve always been this way. For as long as I can remember. And I never thought it was strange until a friend asked me, with that tone of poorly disguised concern: “But you really don’t care about your birthday? Like, at all?”

I started thinking. Is there something wrong with me?

So I did what I’ve done for ten years when something about myself intrigues me: I scheduled a session with my therapist.

Not because I have problems.

I go because I like talking to someone who understands people’s logical and emotional reasoning better than I do.

I sat in my usual chair. Coffee in hand. And fired the question.

“Why don’t I care at all about my birthday? I’ve always been this way. Is there something psychologically wrong with me?”

She smiled. That smile I already know.