Being a January baby has never been an overly fun thing. The world is gray and cold around your birthday, if you go out it’s not in cute clothes and heel its layers and boots, and everyone is so poor you struggle to go out. The latter issue is something which has plagued me ever since I turned 18 and people had jobs and lives.
Being born in mid-January means for most people they are absolutely skint having been paid just before Christmas and going through the festive period throwing around the cash and getting to the new year realizing they have to go pretty much a whole month until any funds hit their back accounts again. When previously organizing birthday trips this is an excuse I’d always hear, “sorry I can’t come I don’t have the money” which is why I have started not arranging exciting days out or making plans which cost and just settling on doing something more low key. Now I’m not moaning about this because as long as I see those who mean the most to me that’s all that matters, but it’s just a shame.
One year I am determined to go away for my birthday somewhere hot, not that there’s a lot of choice, maybe that’s when I finally make it to Australia and I can actually have some warmth for my birthday. If you know anywhere closer to home which is warm mid-January please let me know!
Because my birthday isn’t far from Christmas (although I know plenty of people with birthday’s closer) I’ve never felt my birthday was as big a deal as you’ve spent the last month solidly celebrating something else, your Christmas tree probably only went down a few weeks ago and you’re probably still eating the leftover sweets by 14th January. It’s something I’ve grown up with but I am determined to make sure that each and every birthday from now onwards counts.