My husband got me a vacuum for my 50th birthday #shorts

Title pretty much says it all. I turned 50 yesterday. My husband (53M) woke me up in the morning and told me he had a “big surprise” waiting for me downstairs. I was honestly excited. I don’t usually expect much, but the way he said it made it seem like he had really thought about this. Like he planned something meaningful. I went downstairs, kind of giddy, expecting—well, anything but what I saw.

Sitting in the middle of the living room was a vacuum cleaner. Not wrapped. No card. Just a vacuum, straight from the shipping box. He smiled and said he noticed I’ve been having trouble with the old one not working well on the hardwood because the brush roller doesn’t shut off. I never once said I wanted or needed a new vacuum. The old one still works fine, it just requires a little maneuvering. That was his surprise. That was my 50th birthday gift.

No brunch, no dinner plans. No flowers. Not even a cake. Just… that.

A month ago, he had floated the idea of doing something special for my 50th. Maybe even going on a trip. I got kind of hopeful. I asked him about that yesterday, and he said he was waiting for me to tell him when and where I wanted to go. Like… how is that a surprise? And honestly, if it was really about doing something for me, wouldn’t you at least follow up or suggest something? He’s mentioned multiple times over the past few weeks that he had “something special” in the works. I guess the special thing was Amazon Prime delivery.

I’m just… disappointed. We’ve been married 17 years. And I’m not saying I expected diamonds or a surprise party. But I guess I hoped for something with even a little bit of heart behind it. Something that made me feel seen. He knows turning 50 has been really emotional for me. My parents and grandparents all passed away in their 50s and 60s. This birthday hit me like a wall. I’ve been trying to stay positive, but it’s been weighing on me.

When he turned 50, I planned a whole trip to Hawaii. I researched everything, picked places he would love, and made sure it felt like a celebration. And now here we are, three years later, and I get a vacuum cleaner. I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m not worth the same effort.

AITA for feeling like this? For expecting something—anything—more? Or am I just being too sensitive and placing too much value on what was “just another birthday”?