If it’s true, you tell them.
I’m in the middle of revising a picture book dummy about birthday anxiety.
I love and hate birthdays now. I loved and hated birthdays as a kid. And I’m trying to tell the truth about that, because I know I’m not alone in those feelings.
“I think what I’ve offered was different but not because I drew better than anybody or wrote better than anybody but because I was more honest than anybody. And in the discussion of children and the lives of children and the fantasies of children and the language of children, I said anything I wanted to…I don’t believe in this demarkation like ‘you mustn’t tell them that’…If it’s true, you tell them.” — Maurice Sendak
Telling the truth requires personal excavation.
Exploring this in December is the perfect emotional timing for me; it is a giant anxiety storm of my birthday + the holidays. But rather than running away from it, I’m going to use it to help me figure out the emotional stakes of my story. Muahaha!
What is it about birthdays?
Is it the expectations? The question about who is the host — the birthday person or their parents or their friends? The fact it feels sort of like a mini wedding in which the day seems to be about pleasing everyone else but yourself?
I’ve always really loved my birthday — well, I guess I’ve loved the IDEA of it. I’ve had a lot of weird birthdays, so as soon as December 18 rolls around, it is like my body expects something bad to happen—even though my mind knows I’m an adult and have more agency and power over my own life now than I did as a kid. I get to do whatever I want! And yet…I still feel trapped in that little kid place sometimes.
Birthdays are supposed to make you feel special and loved and safe. So when they don’t feel that way, it might make you wonder, “What’s wrong with me?" You are “supposed” to feel a certain way, but what if your birthday actually makes you feel the opposite? What if you feel rejected and lonely and anxious?
Growing up, I had a lot of birthdays like that, so even now, a part of me is always waiting for evidence that my deepest fears are actually true. Am I doomed to feel rejected, lonely, and anxious forever? Am I stuck in this place forever?
That’s why I want to make a story exploring birthday anxiety, or the specific anxiety tied to gatherings in general. Because really birthday anxiety isn’t about the birthday at all. It is about the disconnect between actions and words. The jarring feeling of outsides not matching insides. Holding your own feelings of powerlessness AND your power to destroy your own birthday at the same time.
I didn’t realize until writing this that birthdays hold both creation and destruction. This idea still feels fuzzy, so I can’t fully explain it yet. But I think it’s the tension at the heart of my story. And that’s where the humor comes from too.
Okay, now I’m off to revise my lighthearted, funny story! ;)
Just kidding, I’ve gotta work through some of this intense stuff first. Can you imagine being hilarious while pondering creation and destruction? Maybe you can, but I can’t!
Looks like it will be a week of emotional excavation. I’ll be channeling Maurice Sendak to help me find the courage to explore the dark, so I can come out the other side with a new lightness.