Turning thirty felt like a milestone worth celebrating with friends. So, as someone who quietly lives a vegan lifestyle (never preaching, just doing what feels right for me), I wanted my birthday dinner to feel inclusive for everyone. I picked a cozy, casual restaurant with plenty of vegan and non-vegan choices, double-checked the menu, and was genuinely excited for a night of laughter and connection.
That excitement didn’t last. When I shared the restaurant in our group chat, the jokes started. “So, rabbit food for dinner?” someone messaged. Another asked, “Do we have to eat vegan all night just for you?” I joked back, reminded them there were options for everyone, and tried to keep spirits light. But then, someone said, “Well, if you’re making us adjust, maybe you should just cover the bill!” Two others agreed. Suddenly, what was supposed to be a night about celebrating together became about money—and my dietary choice.
I was stunned. No one would expect a gluten-free or allergic friend to cover everyone’s costs, so why was this different? Disheartened, I canceled the dinner. I messaged everyone, saying I’d rather skip the drama than feel pressured or resented on my own birthday.
Instead, I booked a solo table at a fancy steakhouse with a vegan tasting menu I’d always dreamed of trying. As each beautiful, plant-based course arrived, I relished the peace and self-love in dining alone. I posted a picture, tagged the restaurant, and quietly wrote, “Best 30th: good food and good company (me).” Some friends reached out confused, but my reply was honest: I wanted my birthday to feel joyful, not transactional.
Now, I’m getting texts about being “extra” or overreacting—some think I made them feel guilty, others say I should’ve just paid to keep the peace. But part of me wonders if true friends would demand I foot the bill just for eating differently.
AITAH for refusing to pay for everyone on my birthday because I’m vegan? Or is standing up for myself at the risk of losing friends still the right choice?
