Happy Birthday/ Jennifer Kreizman/ Essay

Happy Birthday

Jennifer Kreizman

“Happy birthday” is one of the most worn out phrases in the English language, or any language for that matter. Someone, somewhere, is told that phrase every morning. We grow up waiting for our birthdays to be magical, but all this does is set people up for disappointment. Your birthday has nothing to do with you; it’s out of your control. I believe that having a “happy birthday” is made easier when you have someone else there.

Sixteen is supposed to be the year you wait for. Everyone tells you it’s one of the best years. So as one might expect, during the last ten seconds of me being fifteen, my blood was rushing as the timer in my head was ticking down. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Was I really ready to be sixteen? Six. Five. Where did the year of being fifteen go? Four. Three. Two. One. Boom, sixteen. “Do you feel older?” my dad asked me. I had no idea what the socially acceptable answer to that is. “No.” The rest of the night was nothing short of disappointing. I sat in my bed staring at my ceiling and wondered why everyone overrates birthdays. So after a few minutes of crying aesthetically with blue mascara dripping down my face, I fell asleep. I didn’t expect much for the rest of my day, since even my brother had forgotten it was the 8th.

The next morning, my favorite person texted me. Though I had to sit on the hot, packed six train, I sat with a smile on my face. We met up at Wall Street Grill and talked for over two hours. They were the best hours of my life. We talked about everything and everyone we knew and made fun of the people we couldn’t stand. Maybe sixteen wasn’t so bad. Maybe birthdays didn’t suck too much. We ended up walking down by the water and just sat there and talked some more until, finally, we went back to her apartment and watched a movie. We stayed up

and watched the sun come back up over the city and skyscrapers, and I felt like it didn’t matter that I turned sixteen. It didn’t matter that it was my birthday. The significance of your birthday has nothing to do with it being your birthday; it has all to do with the people there with you.

Having a “happy birthday“ is easier when you’re with someone else. Having to spend a day you’re meant to be “celebrated” on seems depressing when you have to spend it sitting in your bedroom alone. Sure, people say that happiness lies within, but why try to find it within when you don’t have to. People around you, or even just one person, can make your day go from crying on your bathroom floor, to crying from trying to hold in laughter. Birthdays can be sad, but in the same way they can be amazing. So what’s the characteristic that distinguishes the two? There’s only one answer: someone. So if you want to have a “happy birthday,” make sure you have someone sitting next to you while you blow out your candles.