Rebirth

There comes a time in almost every person’s life when birthdays simply don’t mean what they once did. The annual anniversary meant to celebrate the very fact that we exist becomes just a reminder of how old we really are. For me, that point came at the ripe old age of 22.

That was a year ago. This week, I turn 23.

I’m approaching it like it’s a death date.

Birthdays no longer hold the allure for me that they once did. I don’t get excited weeks in advance, dreaming of mountains upon mountains of presents just for me. I can have cake and ice cream anytime I please. And I’ve reached every significant age-related milestone for me to reach for quite some time. I am old enough to drive. I am old enough to vote. I am old enough to party. I am just old. Or so I feel….

Although I am perfectly aware that, in the grand scheme of things, 23 is definitely a young age, the prospect of actually being 23 makes me feel like I might as well be 30. And although it’s been said that “30 is the new 20”, I, for one, currently do not share that sentiment at all. When I think of 30, I think of things like driving kids to school, working at a job I may not particularly like, and feeling like I’ve lost all control of my life – you know, things virtually every movie and sitcom condition us to think.

Twenty-two and 23 are, for many people, the ages when real life begins. They are the ages when, on average, college is finished and we are thrust out into the cold, unforgiving world. They are ages associated not with Xbox marathons and sleeping in ‘til noon but with graduations and finding entry level jobs.  They are the ages that mark the end of the best years of our lives.

In keeping with this theme of personal growth and maturity that I feel is expected of me as a 22-year-old, I have decided to forego my birthday this year. I will not be having a birthday in 2012.

One second I’ll be 22 and the next I’ll be 23. That’s it. No party, no cake, and, although I’m sure my Facebook profile will be covered in well-wishing posts from friends, no day of celebration.  

Instead, I’d like to take something I’m not particularly looking forward to and use it to potentially do some good in the world.

Inspired by a young Canadian superstar who recently celebrated a milestone birthday of his own, I have decided to donate my birthday to charity. And I’d like to ask you to help me.

One topic particularly close to my heart is knowing that there are millions of children in this world – many in my own country – who go to bed hungry at night. Some of these kids have parents that are out of work and penniless. Some of them have no parents. The reasons why don’t matter – there is absolutely no reason in this world why a helpless kid who depends on others for survival should go hungry. Especially not in a time when college students routinely drive vehicles that easily cost more than $70,000 and iPhones are considered a necessity.

Children’s Hunger Fund is a U.S.-based non-profit dedicated to making sure children around the world get the food that they need. The organization helps children and families in the United States as well as in more than 70 other countries by providing boxes of food personally delivered to the homes of the needy, offering food and other relief efforts after disasters such as floods and tornadoes, and helping to care for orphans with nothing and no one.

This is the charity I’ve decided to donate my 23^rd birthday to.  I have received no payment of any kind for this endorsement; I just feel it is a worthy organization that has goals that align with my own. I challenge you, my friends, readers, and subscribers, to make a difference in someone else's life by donating a few dollars – $23 if really love me – to this or any other worthwhile charity. It doesn’t need to be in my name and can be completely anonymous. This isn’t about me. This is about others. Thank you.

To find out more about Children’s Hunger Fund and to donate, please click here.