Struggles you’ll only know if you have a summer birthday

Born at an entirely unreasonable hour on the morning of the 9th of August, 1998, I know well the pains of having a summer birthday. Of course, there are the obvious inconveniences and inherent struggles – friends selfishly holidaying as you reach yet another major milestone in your life mostly alone, for example. However, as those of you unfortunate enough to know the pitfalls of a summer birthday, the struggle runs much much deeper.

Planning a party, should you manage to rally enough friends in the first place, is particularly troubling for summer birthdays. Born at the end of October? Easy, get the bobbing apples and fake blood out. Arrived in Autumn/Winter? Gather round, binge watch shows or films and stay cosy indoors. Birthed in the grey nondescripts (Jan, Feb, March, etc.)?

I don’t know, go bowling or something. Whereas we actually hoped for good weather and planned BBQs and outdoor events, but our parades were, inevitably, rained on when the date finally rolled around.

Scrabbling around for a fake ID, too, is a major struggle of having a summer birthday. Having to Facebook message your older brother’s friend’s cousin, who has roughly the same haircut as you, begging for his old provisional so you can make it to the club where your (much luckier) friend has chosen to spend their October-dated 18th is another hassle summer birthday-ers know all too well.

Yes, compared to you OAPs we may have youth on our side, but almost everything else works against us, the summer babies.

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