To All the Men Who Forgot My Birthday
The Day After, and Three Months Later
My birthday was almost three months ago — why am I still annoyed that none of my partners* did anything to celebrate me?
Well, it’s really just that, they didn’t “celebrate me.” I’m in polyamory for the love and care and attention. I’ve embraced my Venus in Leo, and I’m here for the applause from my lovers. It’s taken me a long time to just come out and admit that. (and yes, dating me is optional. If you think this is too much, go find less!)
My birthday is a big deal to me, and I understand now that my primary love language now is thoughtful gifts. Not because I want stuff, but because I want to know that when I disappear from view (object permanence!) that my partners are still thinking of me. So, it goes like this: “Oh, there’s something NorthStar would love! I will get it for her as a surprise or for XYZ occasion.”
And, I promise, it’s not the cost of the gift that counts, it’s the effort put into it. As my friends says, “Effort is sexy.”
As I mentioned last month, the best date I’ve ever been on involved him asking me ahead of time for my drink preferences and then procured them. To me, this says both “I care” and “I see you.” These are the ultimate concerns for me in a romantic relationship.
