Baking a Cake For Myself
22nd birthday...one of the worst birthdays I've ever had. I don't have a lot of friends here at college and my family lives far away. I invited a few acquaintances over to eat dinner and help me celebrate so I wouldn't be physically alone.
I also baked my own birthday cake. I told one of my classmates this a couple of days after the fact and she commented that it was very sad for me to have to make my own birthday cake. I agree, but it would have been even sadder if I didn't have a cake to eat at all, because I knew full well that there wasn't anyone in my life that was going to take the time out of their day to bake one or drive to the store to buy one for me. It was very much a form of self-preservation making my own cake.
I talked to my sisters and my mom on the phone and they asked me how my birthday had gone. After I told them I had made my own cake I wanted to cry when they became quiet, searching for the right words to respond to an undoubtedly unstable self birthday cake baker. I wanted to cry and tell them that I was so lonely and was so hurt that no one at this university of thousands knew that I needed a birthday cake. I wanted to yell at them for living so far away and assuming that I would be able to make friends in this environment.
But I didn't cry and I didn't act sad or upset. I told each of them that if I was the one that had to make it then so be it, that is just the way things happened to work out. At least I got to make it just the way I wanted.
As I was writing this I started crying...it still really upsets me. Maybe because I have unreal expectations of what a birthday celebration should be. It has always been a dream of mine that I would have a big surprise birthday party thrown for me. Attended by tons of people that care about me, complete with a cake that says Happy Birthday _______, we love you! I feel really selfish saying this, but it is something I want so, so bad.