Birthdays

I recently came across a Polaroid of myself on my fourth birthday. I know it was my fourth because I was holding up four fingers, sitting at the dinner table in our old house. A cake sat in front of me, barely visible beneath the tall silhouettes of my older, larger relatives.

I had the classic Asian girl fringe, a ponytail, and a genuine smile. The kind of smile that wasn’t self-conscious or edited. Just honest. Joyful. With all my little bottom teeth on display. I wore a pink sweater, and I looked truly, unashamedly happy.

I’m turning fifteen tomorrow. Finding that photo couldn’t have come at a better time—it made me pause. It made me realize how much I’ve been changing, slowly, quietly, every single day.

Looking back at my birthday photos from when I was twelve, thirteen, and fourteen, I see it. The shift. Sometimes the change is good. Sometimes not.

I see a girl growing more self-aware. I see smiles that start to look more hesitant. I see braces I once tried to hide, then grew proud of. I see different versions of myself wrapped in different outfits I once loved—each one covering up new and old insecurities. I see changing cake flavours: lemon, mango, fruit, and brownie.

And suddenly, it hits me—one day I’ll be looking back again.
It’s kind of scary.
Scary to think I’ll someday hear the awkward “Happy Birthday” song sung to me for the last time.
Scary to know there’ll be a final time I blow out the candles.
Scary that not everyone who says “Happy Birthday” to me tomorrow will still be saying it when I’m eighty.

I’m not the kind of person who stakes their whole year on having the perfect birthday. I’ve never cried on my birthday. I’m not even sure I’ve had one that felt “magical.” But still—birthdays are special.

It’s wild how much I’ve changed, even when most days feel like the same repetitive blur. That Polaroid reminded me how much I’ve grown—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Honestly? It’s kind of funny. If aliens ever landed and saw humans gathered around someone, singing a strange chant while that person blew out fire, they’d probably be terrified. But I think it’s kind of beautiful.

Everyone gets their own little special day, so Happy Birthday.

Writer – Bianca Hu
Editor – Eva McNulty
Artist – Bailey Young

–September 2025–