It’s funny how traditions start. The best ones usually begin organically and without much thought. Once repeated with a little more intention behind it, the tradition begins to hold ground.
Three years ago, on my 24th birthday, I went to work at my office in Boston where I was a graphic designer, and the interns brought me balloons, cupcakes, and a typical drug store paper birthday hat. They sang “Happy Birthday”, and we went on with our day. Later, I sat at my desk with my birthday hat strapped around my chin, picked up my phone, and snapped a photo of myself looking distraught. I uploaded that photo to instagram with the caption “it’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to”.