I cry seeing commercials made for Life Savers, Cheerios, Apple and countless others
I cry watching TED talks
I cry re-telling stories I’ve seen or heard
I cry at movies and television shows
I cry letting what I read become my world
I cry with relief as it washes over me
I cry as I watch the Storm basketball organization empower young women and girls
I cry listening to music
I cry because the news is too hard to watch
I cry that I am trusted enough to be told personal stories of triumph and tragedy
I cry remembering all of the things for which I am most proud
I cry wishing there were things I didn’t have to remember
I cry when I am frustrated
I cry in the trust that is put in me when i’m asked to be a mentor
I cry while my mother changes people’s lives
I cry hearing Amanda Palmer sing the songs that changed my life
I cry as my city becomes one through a team and our shared fan experience
I cry thinking , how fucking amazing!
I cry because these things and many other things truly ARE amazing and I cannot contain in my body the feeling of complete and utter wonder, gratefulness, and love that is swirling inside- yes, even when i’m crying because it is truly awful.
And so, instead, it leaks out of my face.
And then, I start thinking – stop crying, you fool.
I become afraid; afraid of crying harder, afraid of being caught, afraid of being seen, afraid of being judged, afraid of showing weakness.
I feel shame when I cry.
It seems silly really. If I’m crying because I’m thinking, how fucking amazing, then I’m not sure why I should feel shame. It isn’t shameful to feel things. It’s not shameful to
find beauty in art
have empathy
be angry or frustrated
feel connected to someone else or to something bigger than yourself
be affected by how others feel
find community through a shared experience
admire someone else’s strength
feel pride in others or even in myself
become humbled by another’s humanity
And so, looking at this objectively (clearly not as myself), it doesn’t seem so ironic that it is this thing that those close to me love the most about me. It is hard to think someone is “less than” when she is crying because she cannot contain the feeling of complete and utter wonder, gratefulness, and love that is swirling inside. It seems contradictory for someone to think she is shameful and then say to her, “I could not love you more than I do right now,” when she is at her most vulnerable - crying.
Yet, I wish for nothing more than for them to look away - to not see. When someone sees, I wish for each intake of breath to result in my own implosion. It’s a hard thing to want to implode when I would not want someone else to feel afraid to show their feelings – I would just want them to feel. And feel like it’s ok to feel and show it and know I won’t judge them for crying. So contradictory.
I’ve thought so much about this because 1) I cry a lot and 2) a lot of people choose to show their vulnerability to me and cry in front of me. The only time I ever feel not right about someone crying in front of me is if they are trying to manipulate me. . . and even then, even then . . . I don’t want to judge. Even those times, people are just trying to be seen. . . maybe not in the right way, but they are still trying to be seen. So, in every instance I can think of, when someone cries in front of me, I don’t want to judge them. I am never disappointed in them for crying (something i usually feel in myself). I feel honored. I feel grateful that another person feels safe enough with me to show their most vulnerable side. How could one NOT feel that way?
Well, that’s the thing. I think that is the reason I feel shame. We, as a people, are afraid to be vulnerable. It’s scary to let someone else see you that way. People have no idea how to react when others are vulnerable in front of them. They have spent their lives hiding vulnerability from others because - well, survival and all that. Vulnerability can mean someone can find your weak spot and exploit it, beat you. And being “weak” has been historically been bad. . . look at all wars or battles that have been fought - a weakness is the ultimate downfall of all losing sides. And to lose? Well, that’s shameful, isn’t it…
And even that one time that you felt shame because you were wrong or you lost makes you shy away from any type of emotional release. But even if we talk about that loss; crying sometimes means you’ve admitted to something you are not proud of - and to do that is incredibly powerful. It’s ok to fall down. It’s ok to fail. It’s ok to have been wrong. You are not less than because you have failed. And when you admit failure or weakness, it gives everyone around you permission to not be perfect. I mean, who the fuck is perfect? Not even one single person is perfect. We like to think there is perfection. . .but that is truly unattainable. And honestly, thank fucking god that it’s unattainable. I think my life might be much less full if everything was perfect all the time. Boring, even.
I think it is the small, short or few times we have felt failure that don’t allow us to feel like it is ok to cry when we AREN’T failing. Those times when I read a letter from my mother and am humbled and honored and amazed at the beautiful things she writes, crying shouldn’t be shameful. In fact, I think if she knew her writing and her words move me to tears (in the most beautiful way), she would be happy and we would become closer. But it’s those stupid times we are hard on ourselves that ruin it for the the times when we are happy, full of joy, amazed or even justifiably angry and frustrated.
But to be fair, it isn’t just those times. There is a whole history of a culture of people that say crying isn’t ok. Women are weak because they cry and therefore can’t be as competent as a man. Men shouldn’t cry because it shows they are weak and can’t be competent. There is that famous line in League of Their Own when the coach, played by Tom Hanks, says, “There’s no crying in baseball.”
It’s an insult.
Of course there is crying in baseball …. and football and hockey - haven’t you seen any fucking World Series, or Superbowl or Stanley Cup (and if you haven’t, I know you know what I’m talking about - there are things like the World Series of Poker, the Oscars, the Tony’s, the Olympics. . . you get my point)?
Let’s be serious. There is lots of crying on both sides of those games. And it’s TOTALLY OK. These games are people’s lives, people’s work, people’s dreams. People get to cry. Just as much as I get to cry when I am proud a theater show goes off perfectly and “pings” OR when I totally fuck up a theater show and have to apologize to the actors. I get to - I take pride in my work and I think I should get to have an emotional moment no matter how it turns out.Crying is one of the many things that makes us human. And not sure if you noticed, but there are more than 7.2 billion humans on this planet. Humans are hard to escape. Research shows that being vulnerable will make you more connected. It will help you be more successful. It will help you ask for help when you should be asking for help. For me, I feel more alive and loved when I am open and vulnerable.
My point? I think my points it two-fold. First, I want to give myself permission to be ok with crying in front of other people. I never use crying for anything other than a release (be it because I am happy or sad), so I don’t have to be ashamed. But secondly, I want to ask you to give yourself permission to be ok with crying in front of other people - and to not judge people that do cry. I think if we all just accepted each other with all of our parts - the crying AND the not crying - we would be a happier, more connected people.
Some of you who know me, know I often use the phrase, “I hate everyone.” or “I hate people.” Those of you that know me better say to me, “it might be believable if you didn’t love us all.” And it’s true. I do love you all. Even those of you that frustrate me. So there, it’s out there. I don’t actually hate anyone (ish - i feel like this might be a bit of an overstatement) and I cry. I am grateful that you all let me cry. I want to return the favor.
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| this is me crying when i saw Amanda Palmer the first time. i love it. it reminds me how much she has inspired me. |
