Did many find that presents became a problem after that transition, or did you always dislike exchanging gifts?
As a kid, I was very excited at the
thought of a day of presents (Christmas or birthday), but my reality generally disappointed. I was often extremely let down by what I unwrapped -it seemed to me like no one in my life really knew me, and that I was being given things they thought I "should" like (because I was a girl, or because I was 8 or 12, or whatever) but I usually didn't, and then I felt really sad and really alone. I was way too quiet and polite to say anything about it, and I put in a lot of effort to put on a happy, grateful face -which made the day exhausting, to boot. Ha! (I never realized any of this before you asked this question.)
I was so relieved when, in early adulthood, I got to release Christmas! I loved just lounging around alone or with one or two friends, reading, watching movies, eating popcorn, letting the day go by peacefully.
These days, I do ask for birthday presents and I let people know what I love and dream of, and it's all been much happier for me.
As a kid, though, I do remember a handful of gifts -not always birthday or Christmas, some on a random day from a teacher or whatever- that really told me I *was* known, understood, and cared about. That meant the *world* to me. One teacher gave me a book -I was probably 7 years old- and the details of this gift left me believing this teacher saw and valued me. And that was the message I needed.
Also, I remember finding -in advance of my 11th or 12th birthday- the Cabbage Patch Doll my mum had gotten and tucked away for me. I was in awe -party because the doll was just lovely, but also because I was aware that adults were literally trampling each other to get these for their kids that year. We were relatively poor and had far less materially than any of our neighbours, so were usually not, um, hip. My mum worked in the store and did not need to get trampled to get the doll, but I just really felt my mum "got it" that I wanted that year to be like my peers, and that I would feel incredibly special receiving one of these sought-after dolls regardless of how ridiculous the craze was. It was my mum's care and thoughtfulness and long-advance effort that was outrageously meaningful to me. (I kept the doll 'til I was close to 20 years old and had to finally release so many squishy beings in order to be housed. Her name was Katie. And she won Best Looking Cabbage Patch in my school that year. As a painfully shy kid that perceived herself as stupid and ugly, this was one of the most awesome moments of my childhood!)