TLDR: Birthdays used to sting with too much waiting, comparing, and expecting. Then I learned that the best gift you can receive is the one you give back. Now every birthday, I trade candles for meaningful causes that speak to my heart from walking, fundraising, singing, and now writing. Giving back now has become the greatest birthday celebration for me to remember.
Shortly after Halloween came my birthday. With it, the cycle of self-pity starts.
Year after year, I would torment myself with thoughts like, Why didn’t I get the gift I wanted? Why didn’t this person wish me a happy birthday? I gave such a beautiful present and surprise for someone else, and why wasn’t the same done for me?
It was all ego, comparison, and a pile of expectations wrapped up in a single day.
One that, truthfully, seven billion other people didn’t care about.
By the time I turned 24, I stopped celebrating altogether. I kept my birthday off social media. Sometimes, I even avoided posting reflections about spending it alone in a foreign city, blowing out a candle on a cake I’d bought just for myself.
I would tell myself that this was a strength, that someone would notice, that someone would see how I didn’t “need” anyone to celebrate with me. But deep down, it still hurts.
Flipping the Script on My Birthday into Giving Back
Then one day, I read Eat, Pray, Love. Something inside me shifted as the story unfolded about how Liz uses her birthday to raise money for a Balinese traditional healer named Wayan.
I realised birthdays didn’t have to be about waiting for gifts or surprises. They could be about giving (gifting) back.
Inspired, I started what I now call my “Birthday Gift Back.” It began in 2012, after I walked 375km from Bangkok to the Thai-Burmese border to raise funds for anti-human trafficking.
Since then, every birthday has become a chance to turn receiving into giving. Instead of being the center of attention, I use my “birth” day to support causes I believe in.
I’ve transformed every one of my birthdays into what I call my “Birthday Gift Back.” Rather than focusing the day on myself, I use it as an opportunity to contribute to others.
The idea is simple, yet impactful: on the very day when people expect to be showered with gifts and attention, we can flip the script. We “gift” back.
We receive less so that those with greater needs can receive more.
Over the years, I’ve shared my Gift Back journeys through social media posts and updates. Each year, I tell a new story of where the donations went, who they supported, and the difference they made.
What started as something deeply personal slowly grew into a ripple. A few friends began following in my footsteps. Some even told me they’d been doing something similar on their own.
It reminded me of the Buddha’s words:
In those moments, I understood what the Buddha meant on how generosity nourishes not just the receiver, but also the giver. The more I gave, the lighter I felt. The more I shared, the more joy seemed to return. Joy that multiplied in quiet and unexpected ways.
To me, every donation is like lighting a candle. One alone was small, but together they created light waves. It became a celebration that unfolded daily in November, in the ways I followed up with donors, shared updates, and tracked the impact.
The act of giving brought me so much joy, because it meant the attention was no longer on me.
Instead, attention was flowing into meaningful causes, sparking conversations about the issues I cared about, and channelling energy into communities that need it most.
The Hard Work Behind the Happiness
Honestly, it’s far more work than hosting a birthday party. There’s the planning, the supermarket runs, the heavy lifting of goods, the trips to children’s homes, and the careful documentation of every receipt — because I believe in 100% transparency to donors.
Then there’s gratitude: thanking every donor, tagging them, making sure they know that their kindness mattered a lot to me.
Yes, it takes time and energy.
It also fills me with something a party never could — a sense that my birthday isn’t about one day of attention, but about creating ripples of change that last long after the birthday candles are blown out.
I’ll never forget a year when I received a substantial amount of donations but couldn’t possibly carry all the necessities myself. By chance, I met an American girl at a Free Bird Café in Chiang Mai. I asked if she could help me. Without hesitation, she agreed.
For me, I feel, “When you want something good for others, the world conspires to help you.”
At that moment, I understood what Paulo Coelho wrote in The Alchemist:
“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
Illness cannot stop generosity
As my health began to decline, I realised that if I wanted to continue my Gift Back movement, I had to get creative.
An illness forced me to slow down, but it didn’t silence the part of me that longed to serve, to give, and to uplift. It nudged me to find new ways of offering from where I was.
When I was going through cancer at 33, I launched a campaign I called “Raise $3,300 in 33 Days for 3 Charities.” It was my way of turning hardship into hope. Each dollar raised felt like a seed planted. Every seed carried the potential to grow into something far bigger than my illness.
Another year, I created “4(For) Monk 2(To) Teach & Travel,” a campaign supporting Bhante Akaliko’s Dhamma teaching trips to Malaysia and Australia. I had the honour of travelling with him from Singapore into Malaysia, serving as his kappiya (short for kappiya-kāraka, a monk’s assistant).
Being by his side and watching him spread Dhamma and lead retreats, I reflected that generosity is not just about money. It’s also about time, presence, and the willingness to support something meaningful.
Before health became an obstacle, I poured myself into another campaign I called “34 Good Deeds” on my 34th birthday. That year, I performed one of the good deeds in the form of a charity concert to raise funds for a school supporting Burmese refugees in Southern Thailand.
A dear friend generously sponsored the venue, giving me a stage to fulfil my birthday Gift Back. Standing under the lights, singing each song with intention, I felt every note carry a meaning far deeper than entertainment.
Looking back, that night remains one of the most fulfilling and unforgettable memories of my giving journey.
Reflecting on my birthdays, I see a common thread running through all these efforts: illness may have changed my pace, but it never diminished my desire to “gift”.
If anything, being ill deepened the desire. Service doesn’t always have to look the same: it can evolve, adapt, and flow with what is given.
Do what you can with what you have at where you are. It’s a motto I keep close to my heart.
One of the most memorable Gift Backs was when I travelled to Khura Buri, a small town in southern Thailand near the Burmese coastline. For my 35th birthday, I dedicated 35 hours (though it could have been much more) to volunteering at the school I had raised funds for back in 2013.
It was deeply moving to witness the impact of where those donations went — the bright smiles of the children, the education that opened their world, even the simple but essential lessons like learning how to brush their teeth with confidence.
Seeing how lovingly each student was cared for made my heart swell. It felt as if the “gift back” had come full circle, returning in the form of pure, innocent joy.
My Body Is Weak, but My Friends’ Generosity Keep Me Going
Of course, I couldn’t resist reaching out to my friends for support once again.
Thanks to their generosity, we were able to provide milk, stationery, toothpaste, toothbrushes — all the small but essential items the children needed. I even went ahead with a playful idea to create school uniforms in rainbow colours, each shade representing a different age group or grade.
Those few weeks of volunteering as a teacher brought me immense happiness. Watching the children’s smiles, steeping in their energy, and simply being part of their world filled me up with joy.
Even now, I sometimes wonder how they’ve grown, where life has taken them, and whether they would still remember me.
Looking back now, my birthdays are no longer about self-pity. They’ve become milestones filled with meaning and purpose.
Soon it will be my birthday, and this year feels different.
Not because of the number on the calendar, but because it marks the start of a new chapter.
Living with the inability to eat, along with the many complications of this disability, has weakened my body in countless ways.
Yet, through all of this, my spiritual endeavors refuse to be dimmed.
My Dhamma work remains my anchor—steady, grounding, and unwavering. Guiding me through each wave of challenge with purpose and clarity.
For my 45th birthday Gift Back this year, I created a campaign called “For(4) Me to Fight (5).” The “4” was for me, but the “5” carried a double meaning: it stood for writing, and also for fight — the fight I carried forward through my words.
This year, turning 45, I like to honour my journey as a queer Buddhist writer.
Writing became my medium, a way to process pain while offering something meaningful to others.
For the past year, I have found myself reflecting on my health and the limits it brings. I no longer have the same strength or energy to be at the forefront of sharing and doing the Dhamma work the way I once did.
Perhaps that’s life’s gentle way of guiding me towards a new path. Writing has become a beautiful way to stay connected, to keep giving, sharing, and serving, even from behind the scenes.
Even when my body struggled, my voice could still reach out, connect, and give back through writing.
Now, I want to share them more widely, to give back to the community that has inspired me, and to queer vulnerable folks still searching for belonging in spiritual spaces.
So instead of birthday gifts, I invite you to celebrate with me through my writings:
- Subscribe to my Substack, read my articles and reflections — and if your heart (and pocket) allows, consider pledging as a supporter:
👉 kyleneo.substack.com - Support the Dharma Kueen Mini Zine — sponsor its printing and distribution to the LGBTQ+ community:
👉 dharmakueen.com/minizine - Explore my books on my website — if one speaks to your heart, bring it home:
👉 dharmakueen.com
Your support amplifies queer Dhamma voices, helping to build a more inclusive spiritual space. A space where Buddhism and queerness don’t just coexist, but shine together.
Through my writing, I hope to build a more inclusive and universal space of connection, where even those outside the LGBTQ+ community can find resonance.
After all, the heart of Dhamma is awakening. That journey belongs to all of us, no matter who we are or whom we love.
This year, my birthday wish is simple: may no one, and no mind, be left behind.
Originally published in Substack under Birthdays don’t feel the same anymore. Edited for Handful Of Leaves.
Wise Steps
- Flip the Spotlight: On your next birthday (or any day), turn “What can I get?” into “What can I give?”
- Give from Where You Are: Whether through time, presence, or words. Adapt generosity to your capacity.
- Let Your Light Ripple: Every act of giving, however small, becomes part of a larger wave of compassion that outlasts any candle flame.
