So for many cultures their is a coming of age ceremony. In Jewish cultures, it is being bar/bat mitzvah on your 13th birthday. In Hispanic cultures the quinceanera or "festa de quinze anos" celebration happens when young girl's turn 15. In India, Hindu male children on their 12th or 13th birthdays have a grand "thread ceremony" in which the boy wears a blessed thread symbolizing his coming of age. But here in America it seems event planners have recognized a way to Capitalize on the American right of passage - the "Sweet Sixteen."
There have been numerous books, movies and elaborate TV shows chronicling the awkwardness of a teen at her birthday party. I mean, even at 16 some of us were still in braces (I forced my orthodontist to remove mine just days before my 16th birthday) wore horrible clothes, had acne and most likely a bad haircut. We might have had a boyfriend, but not likely. I think we all wish it some ways it was more like the birthdays for some upper East-siders, those that were beautiful, rich, drinking at parties and wearing fabulous couture, al la Gossip Girl.
I would like to paint the picture of my 16th birthday. It was supposed to be all about me - I am sure you can sense a trend here - and I intended on keeping it this way. My birthday falls on the 25th of May, and is usually at the close of the school year. but this particular year my birthday fell on a Wednesday. My mom had over the Christmas holiday several months earlier gotten engaged to a fabulous man. They were still deciding on a wedding date and all of a sudden my mom called and said, how would you like it if we got married on your birthday! In the words of 16 year old Lacy "MOM, its my birthday!! You can't!" So after some debate, they settled on May 26th, one day after to pacify my needs to have a day that was only about me. But in all truth, her wedding was the highlight of that birthday. It is what I remember most about that year, and what could very well have helped me get a little closer to that whole idea of a "coming of age." I was able to stand next to my mom as she said her vows (not many of us can say that) and watched her marry the man who just this December walked me down the isle. I can't picture a better way to spend a birthday. That weekend, I still had one hell of a party with a cake, tons of friends and wore a pink top, because that is what you wear on your "Sweet Sixteen." However, it pales in comparison to the feeling of not only being a daughter, but being treated like an adult who is significant enough to witness the union of two adults.
As my stepdad says, "flattery will get you everywhere!" Well done Mom and Paul. I love you!
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