birthday tears - KLU's Memoir

The first time I cried on my birthday was when I was around 4 years old. I stood in front of a giant Costo cake, prepared to blow out the candles. Just as I got closer to the flame, another gust of air came sweeping in before me to dim them all out. I stared ahead and saw another kid from my parent’s friend grin with mischievous excitement. I immediately walked out of the room and bawled. But this wasn’t the only time when I struggled to hold back the waterworks. On my 9th birthday, I wept as my gifted and talented teacher put me in timeout out of spite for saying the word “cheater.” On my 16th birthday, I screamed, with tears streaming down my face, at my parents on the way to Korean BBQ, arguing with them on why you can’t just “get over” depression. And on my 20th birthday, I walked past the USC journalism building sobbing, wondering why I was struggling to make friends in college, with the new decade signaling my social failures. In between these birthday years, most of them were al

The first time I cried on my birthday was when I was around 4 years old. I stood in front of a giant Costo cake, prepared to blow out the candles. Just as I got closer to the flame, another gust of air came sweeping in before me to dim them all out. I stared ahead and saw another kid from my parent’s friend grin with mischievous excitement. I immediately walked out of the room and bawled. But this wasn’t the only time when I struggled to hold back the waterworks. On my 9th birthday, I wept as my gifted and talented teacher put me in timeout out of spite for saying the word “cheater.” On my 16t