Well, I guess I'm officially in my mid-twenties today. As my friends know, I have an aversion to celebrating my birthday. I won't violently object if my family or friends want to, but I won't make an effort to organise my own- nor will I remind anyone it's my birthday.

I've never really elucidated in my own mind the rationale behind my eccentricity, but after being asked why I decline to observe the day several times recently, I thought I'd write an entry discussing the issue.

I stopped celebrating my birthday during my undergraduate years, when ever additional year seemed like just another year of bitter failure. After getting into Harvard at 16 with all the world at my feet, I struggled and stumbled for the next two years, and each birthday was a mocking reminder that I had not yet met any of the goals I set myself when I entered Harvard. It was easier not to celebrate than to drag myself through a bittersweet celebration. I didn't feel I deserved to be the object of people's attention, nor receive their gifts or friendship; I was a miserable failure.

In recent times, of course, I have been doing quite well for myself and no longer face my birthday with quite so much dread. However, I have learnt to celebrate each and every achievement and now my birthday seems devoid of meaning. It's just an arbitrary date of the year, tied to the movement of the sun around the earth. Why celebrate when I can throw a party celebrating something much more significant? Life is filled with minor victories every day. Why bother with that one day when you didn't even have any control over its selection?

Furthermore, my birthday has the misfortune of falling after school closes for the winter break. I've never been able to celebrate my birthday with my friends during term time. If I were to celebrate, it would seem empty without the people who make the biggest difference to my life in the past year.

Finally, my father's birthday falls two days after mine. We used to celebrate our birthdays together. Now it is just a reminder that we can't do that any more. I light a candle every year on his birthday; that suffices for the both of us.