National Cry in the Shower Day
(Because sometimes the only thing getting rinsed is your will to go on.)
Today we honor the sanctuary of sobbing, a place where no one can hear you over the sound of pulsing water: the shower. It’s humanity’s last bastion of privacy, acoustics, and emotional collapse. It’s not just a place to get clean—it’s a place to fall apart with dignity.
This is your day, porcelain princess or prince. Your baptism in brine. Your steamy sanctuary of sorrow.
Let it all out. The job you hate. The love you lost. The time you called your teacher “Mom” in 1997 and never got over it emotionally. Let the tears mix with shampoo. Let the conditioner double as a metaphor for your inability to hold things together.
Don’t hold back. Cry ugly. A Kim Kardashian cry. That one-silent-sob-that-turns-into-a-snort cry. Bonus points if you slide down the tile wall like a character in a mid-2000s breakup montage.
Need a soundtrack? Try “Nothing Compares 2 U,” Mad World,” or that one Bon Iver song that sounds like a haunted glacier. Or just scream into the loofah. It’s absorbent.
And when you’re done—when the water’s gone cold and your fingers look like regret—step out, towel off, and pretend everything’s fine. Because it is. Until tomorrow.
