I’m often asked if having a birthday so close to Christmas is frustrating. I feel it’s like asking someone what it’s like to be an only child, or a child with 5 other siblings—it’s so wrapped up with your identity and it’s such a familiar thing that you may as well be asking how it feels to have two arms or to have your name.

It’s the only thing I’ve ever known.

Clearly, being born a couple of days before that Jesus guy has its downsides. Not the least of which that it’s inevitable to have one’s birthday overshadowed by the holidays. I was never able to celebrate it with my school friends because we’d all be on break already; everyone’s schedule is busy as is and it was always tough to find time to get together with everyone; and then there’s the whole double-gifting thing. But it’s never really bothered me too much because it’s always been like that. As a consequence, I’ve never made a big deal out of my birthday; it’s always been a relatively quiet affair with a couple of close friends and, save for my 21st, rarely a big thing.

I’m certain that I’d be a different person if I were born in, say, June or April. I mean, gifts TWICE a year?! I would have been able to celebrate my birthday at school! My mom would have brought in cupcakes for my classmates!

And yet, I really like who I am. And who I am is someone who’s born on December 22nd. I like that I feel as if I get to share my birthday with much of the Western world and that there’s an entire season building up to a day where I get to celebrate my accomplishments. Just as I look back upon a year passed and the possibilities of a new one, so does everyone else. Just as I get presents, smile, and share moments with friends and family, so does everyone else.