A good cry…an oxymoron, right?
Females will readily understand this notion.
Due to societal convention, many men may not.
By a good cry, I don’t mean a, “gee, that commercial or Facebook post really touched me.”
I mean a, “My world just turned upside down and I don’t know what to do with this pain,” kind of cry.
Sometimes it’s easier to just bury the pain; to just compartmentalize it, and plan to deal with it another day.
Easier isn’t always better.
I’ve lived long enough to have many good cry moments. I don’t feel the need to expound upon that. We’ve all been there. Sickness, death, abandonment, disappointment, heartbreak…
I’ve always considered myself a strong person. Crying, to me, equaled weakness.
(Additionally, I don’t cry pretty like the movie stars! I end up with big, red puffy eyes and a snotty nose…yeah, just not pretty!)
For the first half of my life, I schooled myself in the art of stoicism.
Again, it’s easier to block things out and focus on the next task than it is to face the problem at hand.
I thought I was so cool. I had the ability to shut down and ignore the pain.
Little did I know the volcano I was building for future eruptions.
Then I grew up…a ‘lil bit…
I realized that crying felt good! Crying was cathartic!
I cried in the woods, walking my dog. I cried walking across the parking lot to work. On really bad days, and I mean REALLY bad days, I have found myself in fetal position on my cellar floor, crying like a baby.
Why am I not afraid to admit this, you ask?
Because every damn time, I managed to let it all out and stand up again and face the next day. Because, just because I cry, does not make me weak. In all actuality, it makes me stronger.
I don’t like the person I was when I didn’t cry.
Yes, I was strong, but no one needs to be fortress strong.
It’s better to be human strong.
So I hope you all cry when you need to and otherwise…skip!