I had a birthday recently. And while some people count down to their special day with the excitement of a kid waiting for Christmas, I’ve come to accept that I’m not one of them.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the messages. I do. The flood of WhatsApp's, the smiley face emojis, the little cakes and balloons, all sent with good intention. But if I’m honest, something about it leaves me feeling... off.

For most of the year, life rolls along. I hear from people I’m close to. We check in. Share a joke. Complain about load shedding. You know, the daily waterings that keep the plant alive.

But then my birthday arrives. And suddenly: whoosh. A deluge. People I haven’t heard from in ages pop up to say Happy birthday! 🎂😊

 And just as quickly, they disappear again until next year.

It got me thinking, maybe I’m like a plant. One of those hardy, low-maintenance types. I don’t need fireworks or fountains. I just need a bit of water every now and then. A meaningful message. A short voice note. A proper laugh.

But a once-a-year monsoon? That’s not care. That’s oversaturation. And ironically, it leaves me feeling more disconnected than seen.

I know I’m not alone in this. I’ve spoken to others who feel the same, quietly grateful but emotionally overwhelmed. Not sad, just… out of sync with the hype. Maybe birthdays aren't a universal joy. Maybe for some of us, they highlight the gaps more than the connections.

So, this year, I’ve decided not to feel guilty about it. I’ve decided it’s okay not to love your birthday. It’s okay to prefer the everyday over the exceptional. And it’s okay to say this out loud.

Because if you really want to make my day, don’t wait for my birthday. Talk to me on a random Tuesday. Ask me how I’m doing when Facebook isn’t reminding you. Share something real.

That’s all the water I need.