Another December 14 has come and gone again. Birthdays have never been my favourite. There’s something about the attention – (numerous phone calls and messages) that wears me down, added to the yearly reminder that I am getting older. With each passing birthday, the age gets scarier, and it feels like time is passing by too quickly, especially as the one thing I need to feel complete (having kids) feels like a far-reaching goal. This year, I woke up on my birthday with a panic attack. The air felt thin, and I had this dread that I was turning 40 the very next day. There’s something Mina used to say to me, which I find myself holding on to often; he’ll say, “Sayi, you do not have a bad life”. This has been a powerful reminder to embrace gratitude, especially when my mind tries to distort my reality with false narratives.
My decision not to celebrate or mark my birthday this year without any social media posts was not because I felt sad or unfilled. If anything, this year has been amazing. I earned my second degree with the grade I aimed for. Despite the numerous changes from immigration, I miraculously narrowly remained eligible for the graduate visa, which I got a day before my birthday. I knew this was my divine birthday gift. I am also thankful for the ‘reclaiming phase’ I am currently in.
I’m thankful for the light moments: For ease, for quiet walks that bring clarity, for random bursts of happiness, for music, for Tijae, and the new connections I have made here in Perth.
Well, this post is more about another side to birthdays I term the ‘birthday aftermath’, which I have struggled to admit because I have been ashamed of it as most people consider it petty. But let’s face it; birthdays are significant with even large corporations marking employees’ and customers’ birthdays because they understand the emotional value. You know how we all have amazing friends, but still, there are a select few such that even if the whole world forgets your birthday, as far as these ones remember, all is well with the world. So yeah, the birthday aftermath is the annoyance/disappointment I get when one of those special persons close to my heart does not reach out on my birthday. For a guy who is weary of humans but, then again, cares deeply for people (quite a stressful paradox as it’s basically me setting myself up for countless disappointments), this shit hurts.
So, I sit here wondering: if there was a pill to make me less concerned about the deep matters of life, to make me more of a simple guy, would I take it? ‘Cuz people like that seem to glide through life without the weight of existential thoughts. It must be nice. But if that pill existed, would it really save me? Or just make me someone I am not?
Over the years, I have learned to handle the ‘birthday aftermath’ better. Not everyone values or remembers birthdays the way I do, and that’s okay. But I believe friendships are built on mutual respect and effort. When you care about someone, you make an effort to honor what’s important to them. For instance, I do not expect a friend like Odafi to wish me ‘Happy Birthday” because of his religious restrictions. Yet, he once congratulated me when I was celebrating a milestone age; even if he did not, it would have been fine. This gesture meant the world to me, considering.
When I was younger, I used to confront those I had expectations of to reach out to on my birthday. I’d send a one-liner along the line of ‘You forgot my birthday’ and await their response, which usually was an apology and reasons why it skipped them. In recent years, I have stopped doing that. I allow myself to feel the disappointment and sit with the question of whether I care more about the friendship than they do. When they realise that they missed my birthday and reach out, we have a conversation and move on from there. For some, I know it’s just their usual forgetfulness, so I give them grace. But honestly, as the years go by, it starts to mess with my head when they keep forgetting—the lack of effort toward something they know matters to me. Oh well…
This past birthday, two of the usual culprits reached out early, and I had to let them know I appreciated the effort to improve. One said he had stored it in his phone’s calendar. Effort, that shit matters so much. That’s how you know your place in someone’s life – not through grand gestures but through simple acts of care that shows you truly matter to them.
I am not big on birthday gifts, but I know some friends are. So, I have made it a point to give when I can. There have been instances where I have had to deviate from this to set boundaries. My close friend Ivan loves receiving gifts on his birthday, but I have had to refrain from giving him as I felt the exchanges were becoming transactional (because he gave me a gift on my birthday, I am therefore obligated to give him one on his birthday and it must be commensurate in worth as well). I knew birthday gifts were very important to him, so I had to explain to him why I was pausing on gifting him on his birthdays. Got that? I explained my why to him: Communication. It is key in all relationships, be it romantic or platonic. Explaining the “why” behind our actions can mend so much.
I hate the feeling that just because someone gifted me on my birthday, I must gift them as well. This year however, I was happy to send him a gift because I knew there was no way he could reciprocate being that we are worlds apart. I mean that literally (there is a reason Australia is called Down Under). While I do not like birthdays, I cherish the thoughtfulness of a simple birthday wish. I even keep a folder of screenshots of birthday messages and shoutouts from friends dating back to the Blackberry era. These little gestures matter deeply to me.
I tried having this conversation with someone, but he was stuck in his belief about what works for him, leaving no room for the nuances of human behavior. It’s the same issue where people assume that loving you in their way should be enough, forgetting the importance of trying to love you how you want to be loved.
Three days after my birthday, Reward buzzed me to apologize for missing it. I laughed and asked why he was apologising. He said he should not have forgotten. I thanked him for reaching out, told him I felt better, and shared that I was in the middle of writing this post about how people often dismiss such matters as trivial or petty, and that’s why I had asked him why he felt the need to apologise. His response was simple: he couldn’t tell anyone how to feel about that, even though, for him, it wouldn’t bother him if someone forgot his birthday as he doesn’t even care much for it himself. He then went further to promise never to forget mine again. I respected him so much in that moment. He understood what friendship means – acknowledging and respecting someone else’s feelings, even if they do not align with yours.
This, I think, is the essence of true friendships: intentionality. It’s about showing our friends that we see them, hear them, value them and respect their boundaries – their likes and dislikes. Respect goes beyond politeness or surface-level cordiality; it’s in those subtle, thoughtful gestures that can mean the world. Maybe not to everyone, but to someone like me.
I have always been a deep person, and I was uncomfortable embracing it for a long time as the world makes deep people feel like ‘we are too much’. The little things – paying attention to tiny details. These small acts of care mean so much to me, and it hurts when they are overlooked by those I consider close to me. Lately, I have learned to embrace all of it, being deep, I mean, because I have realised they are what makes me kind and empathetic. And really, who does not want to feel loved and seen? Who does not enjoy knowing someone notices the small things about them or follows up on something they mentioned in passing? Sure, we all want to feel loved and appreciated in different ways. Being an intentional friend means learning what matters most to those you care about and putting in the effort to show it.
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At the start of the year, I decided not to upload any birthday posts. I wanted the day to be peaceful. Over the years, the attention on my birthdays has grown steadily, and while it’s appreciated, it’s also overwhelming. Responding to everyone while juggling endless phone calls, some lasting over an hour, drains me mentally.
A week before my birthday, I revisited my decision and decided to stick to it. I wanted to preserve the peace. I haven’t posted any pictures on my feed all year and even recently archived all my old photos. Beyond peace, though, this decision tied into a shift I’ve been navigating for a while.
There was a time when I’d roll my eyes at people saying they were keeping their circle small or being intentional about friendships. It felt like such a cliché. But without realizing it, I’ve been doing the same, gravitating toward a smaller, more meaningful circle of friends. It’s been a slow but major internal shift I’ve been processing for almost two years now. And I’m finally learning not to fight it.
“Everybody’s going through changes
Live your truth” – Cleo Sol (Please Don’t End It All)
By the end of the year, it expanded further. I found myself distancing from people whose values and stances on critical social issues didn’t align with mine—like hiding behind religion to support a racist like Trump or choosing APC/Tinubu out of tribalism.
I’ve fully embraced the “let the ship sink” mentality, putting more emphasis on reciprocity. I used to be the person who randomly reached out to people, and checked in. But this year, I’ve been asking, Why can’t they reach out to me? Why is it always me making the effort? It’s been freeing to save my love for those who are just as intentional about me.
No one will ever stop me from being a kind, intentional friend. These days, I simply redirect my love to those who deserve it—those who are ready to commit and reciprocate. It’s exhausting to constantly measure and gauge the love I give, trying to ensure it’s balanced and I’m not being shortchanged. It’s easier to focus on those who understand that friendships are a give-and-take.
I don’t need takers in my life. I need people who cater to me just as I cater to them. That’s where my energy is going now—to those who match the effort. One of my favorite quotes by Ore Fakorede perfectly sums it up: “Alone is better than being held loosely.”
I don’t hold any hate or resentment for the people I’ve had to detach from. When they cross my mind, I wish them well from my corner of the world. But the truth is, the average human is selfish, self-serving, and often sticks around because of how you make them feel or what they can gain from you.
I always try my best to show up for my friends—encouraging them, cheering them on, and supporting their dreams like they’re my own. That’s what friendship means to me. So excuse me if I demand the same energy from you. If you cannot reciprocate then why do you want to enjoy what you cannot give? Am I not also human and deserving of such love and tenderness? The funny thing is, I am very low maintenance (I am grateful for my privileges). All I ask for mostly is that my friends be mindful of me.
This year, I skipped posting anything about my birthday. I wanted peace, especially on Instagram. However, I knew WhatsApp would not escape it, thanks to my Access Bank family. I knew that once one person posted, the others would remember and start posting. I felt extra love getting messages early from some persons I thought would not remember (and I did not exactly have any expectations of) before anyone had posted. There was attention and long calls, but it was manageable and not so overwhelming. As usual, the aftermath… dealing with the feeling that some persons I looked forward to their messages were AWOL. Some later reached out when the day was almost over at my side of the world, I totally forgot about the time zone difference. I doubt I’ll ever get used to it.
I know it’s fucked up to test people, especially as I do not know what was going on with them at the time. But part of me couldn’t resist. By not posting anything, I turned it into a litmus test to see who really remembered my birthday and paid attention. I set myself up for disappointment, knowing full well some people are naturally nonchalant about these things (*Side-eye* Efecruz).
What do they say again? “Don’t go looking for answers you’re not ready to deal with.” And as Daughtry sang – “Be careful what you wish for, ‘cause you just might get it all—and then some you don’t want.”
I know without a shadow of a doubt that I have enough love in my life. I know full well that I am loved unreservedly by my family, friends and even exes. So what more was I exactly looking for? I guess that’s the thing with overthinkers; we doubt too much and constantly crave reassurance.
It’s not lost on me that we’re all in a busy phase of life. Some friends are navigating families and kids, others are juggling postgraduate studies or dealing with their own life struggles. It’s perfectly understandable that things like birthdays might slip their minds. And I’m far from perfect myself, even though I make a deliberate effort to be intentional about remembering my friends’ birthdays, regardless of whether they wished me one the year before.
In fact, one of my ways of showing love is always being the first to wish my friends a happy birthday. Some have even mentioned it, and it warms my heart to hear that. But just last week, I realized I had missed a close friend’s birthday and I made sure to apologize.
So yeah, I’m extending grace to those I held expectations of, even though their silence hurt. It’s not an easy thing to do, especially when I hold these people so close to my heart. Maybe what stung more wasn’t their forgetting but the thought that past birthday messages only happened because I had posted about it, making me wonder if they even knew my birth date. I could be wrong of course, but the thought lingers.
You know how people say something stops feeling special when you have to ask for it? That’s kind of how this feels. For those closest to me, I’ve memorized their birthdays because they matter to me. I guess, in my ideal world, I hope to receive the same kind of thoughtfulness in return, without having to prompt it.
This year’s aftermath hit a bit differently, and I think it’s because I felt some people only reached out on my past birthdays because I made it visible with posts. For the first time, I admitted this to someone—Jeffery. His birthday message came late, and when I poured out my feelings, he explained he’d been offline most of the day. His timing was perfect because I wasn’t sure who I could safely have that conversation with.
This reminded me of a lesson I first grappled with in 2017/2018 when I felt abandoned during a very public battle with anxiety and sadness. I had to learn that different friends serve different purposes and that not every friend is equipped to provide the same type of care.
How have I dealt with the aftermath this year? I wrote down the names of those in question, looked at the names one after the other, and recalled special moments with each of them and times when they had shown up for me in significant ways. That was my way of reassuring myself that just one miss does not mean I am not important or loved dearly by them. I had long forgiven each even before they reached out days after realising they missed my birthday.
What I want to say the most: Pay attention to your friends because we need each other to survive. Create moments of softness and tenderness for them. Be a safe space for them where they feel seen, cherished, and wholly accepted. Let them know they matter to you, in words and actions.
We all can learn to be and do better. I am still learning. For example, while I am not big on gifts, I love a well-written birthday message. I cherish them so much; it makes me know how appreciated I am, that I am seen and held dearly, and that I matter. But then I recently realized I’ve not been giving the same energy back. Next year, I plan to move beyond the generic “Happy Birthday” messages and take my time to craft something heartfelt for each friend.
Here’s some I got this year –
PS: While I support being there for friends, I also recognise that empathy burnout is a real thing. A few months back, I started feeling a type of way when it hit me that the returns on my naira investments always found a way of leaving my account almost immediately without retaining any for myself. I spoke to Dr. Ewaen about how I felt, and he made me understand that it was perfectly normal. So, I had to hit pause, set a target, and save the next returns and after hitting my target, I made a fresh investment. This made me feel happy that I had done something nice for myself after a long time. What I am trying to say is that as much as we try to be there for others, we should not neglect ourselves. As Dr. Ewaen said, it’s who is okay that will be able to support others.
I’ll be wrapping up this post with pictures from past birthdays, which I looked through and they made my heart lighter and filled with so much love. I am grateful and appreciative of all the love I have and keep receiving from my friends. I love you all deeply, always.
Comments 3
Sayi’s writing will throw you into spaces you’ll never imagine. He is deep, inspiring and full of life experiences. Defining humanity from the eyes of an amazing personality.
What a brilliant piece!
Welldone 💪
I always look forward to your journals 🥹❤️