I’ve never been one for birthdays. Not mine, at least. No surprise parties. No cake cutting. No balloons. Just another day on the calendar.

It’s not that I dislike the concept. I simply never saw the point. For as long as I can remember, birthdays felt like a reminder, one I wasn’t eager to face, that time was moving far too quickly.

Another year gone. Another number added to my age, another 365 days behind me. I’ve always been someone who thinks in timelines.

Timelines define our lives. We set goals, chase them, and reach milestones, all within them. At home and at work, timelines keep us moving with purpose. Every task we finish and every milestone we reach adds to a bigger story.

Timelines end, whether big or small. In those pauses, we reflect, measure our growth, and find clarity for the next journey. You ask yourself:What did I achieve?What did I lose?What could I have done better?

For me, birthdays felt like that same check-in. A personal year-end review. But unlike New Year’s Eve, which felt communal and full of possibilities, birthdays seemed more like a solitary reminder of time passing, quietly, inevitably.

So, I chose not to make a fuss. Year after year, I let the day pass almost unnoticed.

The Turning Point: Family

And then… I became a parent.

Having kids changes many aspects of your life, including your priorities, routine, patience, and what makes "a good night's sleep." However, I noticed a surprising change in my attitude towards birthdays.

The first time we celebrated my son’s birthday, I realised something. This wasn’t just a date. It was his day. The day he came into our lives and changed everything.

It wasn’t about counting years. It was about marking moments. About pausing the business of life to say: You matter. This day matters.

Watching my wife made me see birthdays differently. To her, they brought joy, laughter, and moments to treasure. I had never cared about celebrating mine, but seeing how much it mattered to her and our kids made me appreciate their value in a new way.

Birthdays Are the Memories We Create for Our Kids

Now, here’s the thing: I still don’t celebrate my birthday. Not because I’m stubborn, but because it’s just not how I connect with the idea of marking time.

But my family’s birthdays? That’s different.

Every year, without fail, we celebrate them. Not in a grand, extravagant way. We don’t book banquet halls or throw hundred-person parties. It’s small. Intimate. Just the four of us.

Sometimes it’s a home-cooked dinner. Sometimes we order their favourite food. There’s always a cake. Always candles. Always the moment when everyone sings, a little off-key but full of love.

It’s not about impressing anyone. It’s about being together. It’s about creating a memory.

I’ve realised my children’s joy matters more than my own views. They deserve birthdays filled with colours, surprises, gifts, and family moments. These experiences aren’t just fun, they’re memories that give them love, happiness, and belonging, shaping how they remember childhood long after the day has passed.

Because one day, they’ll look back. And I want those memories to be there.

What Birthdays Have Come to Mean for Me

For me now, birthdays aren’t really about the number on the cake. They’re not even about the passage of time anymore.

They’re about connection. That rare, carved-out time where everyone puts life on pause to focus on one person and say: We’re glad you exist. And that’s worth celebrating.

Even though I still don’t want my own, I’ve learned that the act of celebrating someone else’s birthday is a gift you give them, not yourself. It’s a chance to create joy, strengthen bonds, and make someone feel deeply seen.

Undoubtedly, different people have different opinions about birthdays. Some go all out with weekend trips, expensive surprises, and themed parties. Others like simple times, intimate company, and peaceful meals.

Neither is right nor wrong. It’s about what makes you happy, and what makes the people you love feel cherished.

As for me, I’m happy keeping things low-key but meaningful. A small circle. Genuine moments. The kind of memories that linger long after the candles are blown out.

I would like to know if you have an expensive celebration with lights, music, and a huge guest list for birthdays. Or do you keep it intimate?