There is something wonderfully symmetrical about having a New Year’s birthday. (Mine’s NYE, but whatevs. Still counts.)
My new year really is the New Year.
So get your own.
People with late December birthdays deal with enough combo bullshit. Deal with too many people being too busy doing their own holiday thing to acknowledge the anniversary of our births. So… I take ownership.
Yes… It’s my New Year. You had yours.