Birthday Lovin’
Tomorrow is my birthday, and I’m in a reflective mood. I went into 26 with shingles and intense depression. I’m coming out with my husband by my side, two promotions on my resume, and only a faint scar on my forehead.
What a difference a year (and therapy) can make.
We’re everywhere
To fully feel the impact of the last year, I sat down with my birthday blog post from 2020. It was aptly titled, It’s My Birthday, I’ll Cry if I Want To, and it doesn’t get much more joyful than that. Throughout the piece, I struggle to find positive points, berate myself for not wanting to celebrate, and lament the life I had before COVID. From the first few lines, it’s clear I was miserable:
I took last week off envisioning a rotating schedule of parties leading up to today. At the very least I thought I’d wear a parade of outlandish outfits to add to an Instagram carousel.
Instead, it’s been a lot of tears, hiding in my apartment, and revisiting old diaries….Not that former birthday parties didn’t end that way too.
At least I always knew how to crack a joke…
Love Me Right
In the first year of the pandemic, I spent a lot of time trying to understand what was so great about “self-care”. Baths gave me too much time to think, spas were closed, I already had an online shopping habit, and eating sweets made me feel guilty.
I thought the best thing I could do to love myself was to be productive.
As such, I distracted myself with projects, obsessed over progress, and did so many bodyweight exercises in my apartment that I’m surprised our neighbours haven’t moved. I frequently wrote about being a workaholic and my mania-induced stationery purchases. I lost a bunch of weight, got a new job, learnt makeup tricks, switched over my wardrobe, took a course, and wrote a few picture-book drafts.
None of it eased my mind.
By my birthday I was over-extended yet completely unable to chill the fuck out.
In these stressful pandemic times, we've been shrieking “LOVE YOURSELF” to our network like it’s both the easiest and most obvious thing you can do: ”Hey, I know this month had been hard on you. Have you tried loving yourself? What about a new candle?”
During my week off I didn't get anywhere near the level of pampering we’ve come to expect and force on each other in the name of self-care. There were no facials, no long baths, and I didn't cut out any "toxicity" from my life. Instead, I sat on the couch and added a million items to a cart that would never see the checkout screen
I didn’t get it, and I was infuriated by my level of incompetence in relaxing. It was unfathomable that something so basic could be so challenging.
We've been conditioned to see very specific kinds of relaxing and self-care. If it isn't a hot girl in a face mask eating pizza, what could it possibly be? How many kinds of tea do I need to buy before I feel adequately self-loved?
When I focus too much on self-care it becomes part of my routine in a harmful, obsessive way. I think too hard about the 'right' method to unwind, the amount of time it should take, and whether or not the effects were immediate. My relaxation becomes part of the to-do list, and taking a bath becomes more of a bragging point than a luxury.
I thought if I could figure out how to do self-care, it would be the first step toward peace. I convinced myself that the right amount of candles, body scrubs, or wine would bring understanding, and I attacked the challenge at full force.
What I was missing was something less tangible than cosmetics: I wasn’t talking to myself in the right language.
The 5 Love Languages is an interesting read, if not a tad too religious. The gist is that there are different ways in which people give and receive love. In every relationship – familial, amicable, romantic – we use our primary love languages to strengthen our bonds.
The main 5 are Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, and Quality Time.
Like any language, there are nuances to consider. For example, you can give and receive in different ways. You may also be multilingual. If you aren’t sure which is your language (or need a deeper dive), go take the quiz.
I am a Quality Time girl. There’s nothing I love more than walking and talking with a friend. No wonder the online orders (gifts), daily affirmations (words), Marie Kondo purges (acts of service), and massages (touch) didn’t hit the spot. I wasn’t trying anything built for my kind of love.
Everything reopening has solidified that uninterrupted time with friends is what feeds my soul - an unfortunate reality during a lockdown. COVID cut me off from my self-care, and I scrambled to replace it with creams and cookies.
No shit I got depressed….
Tick, Tick... Boom!
Recently I came across a viral video highlighting the link between our love languages and our most self-destructive habits. When we aren’t getting the love we need (or even when we are), it’s common to fall into negative patterns.
Recognizing self-destructive behaviour isn’t as simple as taking a love language quiz. Changing it is even harder. While your tendency to overeat or procrastinate may be negatively impacting your life, your brain doesn’t see it that way.
Self-destructive behaviour is unconsciously adopted as a coping mechanism to protect against perceived threats. Most are rooted in formative traumatic experiences that are stored in the amygdala, the part of the brain that triggers emotional responses to perceived danger. The tricky part is that the amygdala doesn’t recognize time. A threat is a threat, and it responds to any familiar situation as if the original danger is still present. Here’s a list of 17 destructive behaviours you might recognize.
What the TikTok video showcased, is that our go-to self-destructive behaviours are often expressed in the same way that we feel love. If we have a specific language to communicate affection, it follows that we would use the same one to self-sabotage, whether we notice it or not.
For example, if you use Words of Affirmation, you might be prone to negative self-talk. You’ll tell yourself you’re unworthy of love before someone has the chance to tell you otherwise.
Those who express love through Physical Touch might find themselves engaging in nail-biting, binging, or bodily self-harm. If you use Acts of Service, you’ll likely procrastinate, refuse help, or leave your space in disarray.
For me, a lover of Quality Time, isolation is my destructive habit of choice. When times are tough, I retreat into myself and push everyone else away. Here’s the tendency in action:
In the age of body positivity, “self-care”, and moon placements, a birthday is meant to be sacred. Without the Instagram stories and the glamour shot, you're falling short. My rationale is that, if I can't see everyone in person, I don't need to see anyone at all.
In saying this my fear is that I’ve exposed myself… The lack of birthday calendar invites signals that something is wrong, and I don’t want to deal with it. For the first time ever I wish this day would pass me by, but I feel like I'm walking around with a giant sign screaming "I'm a year older! Ask me what I'm doing about it!"
When you understand how to speak to yourself in the right language, it’s easier to give yourself what you need. In recognizing my pattern of isolation, I’ve created safeguards against it.
Last year I was throwing everything I could at the wall, not understanding why my desperate attempts at self-care were falling short. I pulled away to figure it out, fully unaware that it was making it worse.
Looking back, I feel like I have a translator with me to see what went wrong, but everything is easier to notice in retrospect. After all, I am a year older and wiser…
A glimpse into my evening plans
Make a Wish
Last year’s blog obviously wasn’t the cheeriest, but there are moments that bring me solace to read now. For instance:
I want to thank all of you who regularly read these newsletters - that's a birthday gift in and of itself! I'd be remiss to send this out without including at least one positive note for the year ahead. My goal is to keep growing My Side Piece at least until my 27th birthday.
I might not be able to see my friends in person, but I can still show up in your inbox.
We made it, and this year there are twice as many of you reading. Honestly, that’s more than I ever could have wished for.
By 28, maybe this post will seem as out-of-date as last years’. The point is always to keep evolving, translating, and learning how to feel grounded. In the wise words of Ru Paul, “if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else?”
Can I get an Amen?
