Not All Unicorns Wear Horns

But they do like cake. A lot.

Adding up all the years I’ve been alive on earth, I’m less inclined to celebrate or even sometimes mention, the word “birthday”. But there are some birthdays that must be celebrated.

For example, after buying Trudy a few years ago, the event of her first birthday since being with me was something I wanted to celebrate. I made one large cake for Trudy, complete with her name spelled out and with carrots representing candles, and then made little cupcakes for all the other horses in the barn.  

Let me tell you the ingredients you need make a birthday cake for a horse: oats, sweet feed, molasses, carrots, and apples.  Simple but tasty (to a horse).

I’ve always thought Trudy looked like a unicorn who is secretly hiding her horn.  Hence her Instagram hashtag #trudytheunicorn.  So of course, the décor was all unicorn themed, including party hats for all her barn mates, and a large white unicorn horn for Trudy.

The cake was a great idea. The horn, not so much. It kept falling and bonking her in the nose which scared her and made her jump, and I had a heck of a time getting her to settle so I could take the thing off.  You live and learn, eh?

The whole thing reminded me a bit of how I generally feel about birthday celebrations.  Some work, some don’t.  I’m generally good with other people’s birthdays, not so good with my own.

When I was a kid, we rarely did much for birthdays. As I was the youngest of four, my parents no doubt suffered from birthday fatigue. I think they were burned out on the whole child rearing thing at that point, to be honest. My mom was a good baker and would usually bake a cake, there might be some cards, maybe a present. Overall, a low-key affair.

So low-key in fact that I remember one birthday was forgotten. Life was hectic, things were stressful. It was easy to let the day slip by before realizing your youngest daughter might be expecting some acknowledgement of the day. My mom hastily pulled something out with a store-bought pastry, but I was certainly aware of the last-minute nature of it. It was like the unicorn horn. It had the best intention, but mostly it just bonked me in the nose and annoyed me.

When I lived in New York, I decided to throw my first ever birthday party for myself. I was turning the ripe old age of forty and found a bar called Vintage that seemed appropriately named for the celebration. Truthfully, I was trying to perk myself up. I’d come out of a relationship that broke my heart and I hadn’t quite recovered. Adding to that I was questioning the quality of my circle of friends and what I wanted for my life overall. All the things you do at forty, I suppose.

The friend issue became evident when a couple of my “closest” friends offered to get a cake for the party. They both completely forgot. I ended up making an emergency run for a tray of cupcakes. I tried to disguise my disappointment, and my friends were suitably contrite. We covered the awkwardness by drinking copious amounts of liquor, as one does in those situations.

Wisdom doesn’t come easy. I suppose it is natural that I frequently equate birthdays with some disappointment. But honestly, the pressure we put on ourselves to celebrate a specific single day on the calendar every year and the narrative that runs through our head about measuring success and accomplishment on a timeline, all based on some vision we had when we were ten. How is that even relevant?  I mean, if you had a question about children, work, love, sex or life in general, would you reach out to a ten-year-old to consult?

After all, the recipe for a life well lived is not as simple as an oat cake made for a horse. There’s so much more to it.

It is my birthday this month and I really don’t want gifts. Having just moved, I am aware of how much “stuff” I have and don’t need any more. I am just happy knowing that if I wanted to celebrate, the people in my life now would make it happen with all the bells, whistles, bling, and an awful lot of lit candles resulting in a frightening amount of open flame.

I really do have all that I need. I have wonderful friends, family, financial stability (ish), a new home, beautiful animals, hard-won wisdom. And gratitude. So much gratitude.

But listen, there is one thing: cake. As a plant-based diabetic, a slice of that fluffy, frosted goodness is a rare treat in my life. I would not say no to some (vegan) cake.

I come into my birthday accepting who I am. We are all individuals. We are each of us unicorns.

And as Trudy can tell you, not all unicorns wear horns.