A reflection on birthdays and boundaries.

Birthday Reflections: On Authentic Connection

(Personal Essay — November 2025)

Birthdays have a way of drawing people back into old roles. The well-wishers, the absent ones, the surprise messages from those who once knew you well. Each gesture invites a question: is this care, or choreography?

Lately I’ve been asking myself what separates a true connection from the performance of one. The difference isn’t always visible. Both can look generous, both can sound kind. But one is an act of presence; the other, an act of control.

When someone says, “Listen to this,” without a please, it lands like direction, not affection. It reminds me how easy it is to mistake instruction for intimacy. I used to think noticing that made me difficult, or ungrateful. Now I see it differently—effort isn’t the same as sincerity.

Performance seeks confirmation: Did you see me caring?

Being seeks contact: I’m here with you, no proof required.

Recognizing that difference has been my quiet gift to myself this year. I can let the performances go without resentment, and still welcome what’s real when it appears. I don’t need to rewrite anyone’s script; I just don’t have to perform mine.

So when the day arrives, and the greetings roll in, I’ll receive them as they come—warmly if they’re true, lightly if they’re not. The applause can fade. I’m still here, breathing in my own scene.

WE&P by: EZorrillaMc&Co.