It’s hard to imagine how Dua Lipa, who turns 31 this week, could possibly outdo last year’s birthday bonanza – which included two custom-made designer gowns, several bespoke cakes, and a luxury trip to Ibiza with her family and then-fiancé, Callum Turner. But no doubt she will again mark the occasion in style – and stretch it out over the course of several weeks.
How do I know this? Because it’s a long-standing tradition for the “Houdini” singer. In fact, so prolific and extravagant are her birthday celebrations that these blowouts have become somewhat of a running joke among her fan base – much like her ability to turn every work engagement into an envy-inducing beach holiday or city break.
While there are, of course, lots of things that separate Dua Lipa and I – not least her washboard abs, astronomical fame and wealth, and doting actor husband – our penchant for our own birthdays is one thing we most definitely have in common.
For me, it started several years ago, when most of my close friends began settling down with their long-term partners, moving out of the city and, eventually, having babies. Though I didn’t resent them for this, we met up less and less as a result, and whenever we did get together, there’d usually be a spouse or infant in tow, or the occasion itself would be centred around their new life stages.
Every other month, it seemed like I was attending yet another wedding, baby shower or christening. My bank balance dwindled, as I’d travel far and wide, splurge on gifts and have to get a new outfit every time. Of course, as a single woman who lives alone, the cost of these things was never a shared burden either; I always had to foot the bill myself.
Don’t get me wrong: I love my friends, (most of) their partners, and their kids. I am an “auntie” to more children I can keep track of. So, too, do I hope to experience those same milestones myself one day. But when you are continually the one making the effort for others, going out of your way to attend their special days – of which there are many, many more – and you are also taking the financial hit every time, it gets to a certain point where you think: sod it! I’m going to milk my birthday – AKA the one time a year that’s truly about me – for all it’s worth.
Typically, this means booking some kind of trip for the day itself (I actually can’t remember the last time I was in the UK for it). I then set up a series of dinners, lunches and drinks over the course of September, with various groups of friends and family. Before I know it, my diary is chocka until October. And I love it.
Now, before you think I’m a diva or self-absorbed, I should point out that some of this is actually about me making allowances and catering for their different needs and requirements. For example, my mum friends struggle to get childcare in the evening and usually like to be home for bedtime, hence the lunches.
For my London friends, who largely work in the office during the week, I try and organise something in town mid-week to kill two birds with one stone. The weekends are then reserved for bigger plans and family, to account for any journeys home, and all the prolonged hangovers we now encounter in our thirties. If nothing else, these annual get-togethers are often some of the few dates we all manage to commit to every year (perhaps they should thank me for getting everyone in one room).
Even without these justifications, I don’t feel embarrassed by the fact I revel in my birthday festivities – not when I spend so much time thinking of others and having to navigate most things in my life alone. It’s nice to feel celebrated and loved. It’s nice to be in a room of people I’ve known for over a decade – and to introduce them to newer friends and acquaintances. And it’s nice not to feel as if my life is trivial by comparison.
Too often in life, especially as a thirty-something singleton, you are made to feel like the odd one out – like your life isn’t quite as serious as your coupled-up counterparts. I am sick of that rhetoric. Just as I show up for them, they should show up for me. That is the very definition of friendship.
So no, Dua Lipa may not be entirely motivated by the same things as me. But she no doubt relishes the opportunity to celebrate with loved ones, spend quality time with them and put on a sparkly dress while doing it.
The question isn’t why we celebrate our birthdays all month long; it’s why do you not?
Hence then, the article about how i stopped being the odd one out as a single woman in her 30s was published today ( ) and is available on inews ( Middle East ) The editorial team at PressBee has edited and verified it, and it may have been modified, fully republished, or quoted. You can read and follow the updates of this news or article from its original source.
Read More Details
Finally We wish PressBee provided you with enough information of ( How I stopped being the odd one out as a single woman in her 30s )
Also on site :
- Hairstylists Say This In-Shower Step Helps With Shedding and Scalp Issues While Encouraging Stronger, Longer Hair
- This Troubled Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Became ‘Drinking Buddies’ With a Beloved ‘Little House on the Prairie’ Star Before His Untimely Death at 27
- We Asked 4 Cardiologists the Best Stress-Relief Habit for Lower Blood Pressure and They All Said the Same Thing