April 22, 2025
By Lila Hartman

I’m turning 40 this week.

Big milestone, right? The kind people throw surprise parties for. Or at least the kind where someone makes a group chat and picks a cake flavor.

But no one did. So I planned my own little party. Not because I was expecting a crowd—I knew better—but because it felt sadder to just ignore it completely.

I picked a place, picked a time, sent out a few invites. Nothing fancy. Just, “Hey, if you’re free, come by.” I even told myself I’d be okay if only a few showed. Deep down I guess I knew… it might just be me.

And now, here we are. Days out. No RSVPs. No “can’t make it” texts. Just silence.

I don’t have a big friend circle. I’ve always been kind of independent, more comfortable one-on-one or in small doses. That’s never really bothered me. But this? This stings a little. It’s like realizing you’re not even a blip on anyone’s weekend plans.

I’m not mad. No one owes me their time. And maybe I should’ve known better. But still—damn.
I thought someone might care enough to show up.

So yeah, I’ll probably still go. I’ll get myself a slice of cake. Raise a glass to myself. Try to find peace in the quiet.

Happy birthday to me, I guess.