Birthday Blues

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. Not wanting to take him at his word that he didn't want to do anything special, I decided to put together a really special evening for him. 

And then I couldn't even get both candles to light. I spent the evening in tears. 

Let me fill in the middle of the story for you. I spent the whole day getting ready. I went all over town looking for the gift I had planned on giving him, but it was nowhere to be found. (Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating--I consider my two go-to stores "all over town".) I carefully studied the recipe for his favorite Egyptian dish and got all the ingredients--including a bag of wheat flour that really has no place in my gluten-free kitchen. For anyone who knows me, this is a huge sacrifice.  I got a balloon, I got out my blonde wig and planned nice, dressy outfits for myself and the kids, I got his favorite kind of cake...and these candles. 

I didn't time the cooking very well, failing to factor in the kids--pick ups taking longer than they should have, cries for attention, the whole bit. My attempt at Egyptian cooking was a colossal fail. I forgot which bag the cake was in and it smooshed to one side of the box. I didn't have time for any of us to get dressed up before he got home, I didn't have his Arabic music playing like I had planned, and I couldn't get both kids to make him a card. Besides that, I had a wicked headache and the kids were driving me absolutely crazy with their screaming. Happy screaming, but screaming nonetheless. 

And then one of the candles wouldn't light. 

And just like that, this selfless act of creating the perfect birthday where my husband would feel loved became all about me. 

Self-awareness can really be annoying sometimes. 

I am increasingly aware that, despite years of therapy for this issue, I still make everything about me. I still need affirmation like most people need water. I can only go three days without it. I know I set myself up to fail with this birthday dinner just so I could have a little "poor me, I tried so hard but nothing ever works for me" pity party and get loving attention and affirmation from my husband about everything that does work for me--or, more to the point, about me. I took on an incredibly difficult culinary challenge when I don't handle simple ones well; I actually thought my kids--my kids--could sit and make cards and dress themselves up; and I waited until the day of his birthday to shop for the gift. Somewhere deep, I think I knew I wouldn't pull it off. 

I'm pretty frustrated by the fact that I can't seem to accept who I am, inside or out. I see myself through the eyes of others, good or bad. And most of that is all in my head. 

Redefining my own beauty must involve setting realistic expectations for myself, even it means giving up all the attention I get when I fail. It must involve offering what I have, not what I wish I could have (like so-and-so does). It must involve looking at my mess of a meal and being proud to serve something that was prepared with so much love and such good intentions. 

The journey continues.