Today, a pharmacist told me my birthday was a terrible day. I know she didn’t mean it like that, but it didn’t make me feel too great. I can’t change the way those events unfolded and I will always be reminded of the tragedy that coincided with my birthday.
I will always be empathetic towards those who have been deeply affected by those events, but I think it should go both ways. I don’t celebrate as openly anymore and I’m always surrounded by remembrances on what’s supposed to be my special day. I’d like to think that my life is worth celebrating, like anyone else who celebrates birthdays.
You might think this sort of interaction happens often to me, but this was actually the first time. Most people don’t even mention the connection. Sure, I expected it to happen someday, but certainly not from a supposed professional who regularly deals with people. I am so disappointed.
I won’t let anyone else tell me my birthday is “9/11.” I came into this world on September 11 and that’s what I’ll celebrate.