I was born on a leap day. My birthday was the joke of my classroom as a kid, but now I embrace its uniqueness.

• I was born on February 29th, making me a leap day baby.
• My birthday was the joke of my class when I was in school, because I didn't have one most years.

On the first day of January in 45 BC, Julius Caesar enacted a calendar by edict that would become the predominant almanac throughout the Western world for over 1600 years. The Julian calendar corrected its predecessor by giving each year a length of precisely 365 and one-quarter days, remarkably close to the actual solar year, which lasts 365 days, five hours, 48 minutes, and 46 seconds. Under Caesar's new calendar, February would be appointed one full extra day every fourth year. Thus, the leap year was born.

Leap days are as rare as the Olympic games. So, being born on February 29th is akin to being an Olympian — after all, every four years, both groups have their time in the spotlight. Only instead of breaking world records in the 100-meter dash, I get texts from my friends that say, "Happy REAL birthday, nerd."

I was born on February 29th

Growing up, my birthday quickly became the butt of classmates' jokes. After all, I didn't have an actual birthday for most years of my life.

My leap age was a math problem for classmates eager to solve. I've heard all the jokes. I would have to be 64 years old before I could drive because, at 64, I would have had 16 leap birthdays. And for drinking, I would have to turn 84 before I would have celebrated 21 leap birthdays.

My leap day birthday singled me out in a way that was entirely out of my control. To a kid who wanted to be as grown up as possible, having my age constantly divided by four got old fast.

As an adult, I appreciate the uniqueness of my birthday

As I grew older, however, and after some prodding from family members, I began to realize what an opportunity I was given, and I started to embrace the more fun and unique aspects of my birthday.

I strove to celebrate my leap birthdays by partying in the fashion of my leap age. For my 16th birthday, for example, we rented a reptile lady that comes to your home with a bunch of snakes — just as I did when I was 4. And I was just as terrified as when I was 4. Turning what was once a point of tension into a playful birthday tradition has also meant being able to more openly and frequently embrace my inner kid, rather than shying away from it.

I feel pressure to celebrate big on leap years

Birthdays come with stress, and "leaplings" — people born on leap day, and yes, a classification that also sounds straight out of Tolkien lore — are far from immune. Conan O'Brien once said of birthdays, "I don't like praise for something I didn't have anything to do with," and I generally fall in that same camp. Sometimes, birthday anxiety can loom even larger for leaplings since their "real" birthday is less common. Every four years, pressure mounts to celebrate bigger or better than in non-leap years because leap birthdays are a scarce commodity.

I'd always thought of my birthday as so arbitrary when I was growing up I hadn't given it a fair shake. Now, I take advantage of my leapling status whenever it benefits me. A remarkably supportive household means that on non-leap years, I can choose to celebrate on either February 28th or March 1st. If the former happened to fall on Thursday and the latter happened to fall on Friday, then I was a March baby that year because a Friday birthday is more convenient than a Thursday one. Being able to pick and choose which day you celebrate is a perk unique to leaplings.

The ancient Egyptians observed a 365-day year. So close. But without accounting for the extra five hours, 48 minutes, and 46 seconds of the solar year, they experienced a wandering calendar. After 100 years, the Egyptian calendar had not accounted for nearly twenty-five days — enough to alter agricultural timelines, keep corrupt leaders in office, and have tangible consequences.

And so I like to think of leap day babies as problem solvers. After all, without leap day, everything would be just a little off.