I took my kids to go see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 over the summer, and even though it’s an action-packed movie about super heroes, there I was in the first row, crying at the movie’s soundtrack of 70s and 80s songs that reminded me of the happiness and sadness of my childhood and teenage years.
After the movie, we watched the first Guardians of the Galaxy together, because we hadn’t seen it yet and apparently my kids wanted to listen to me cry some more. Within minutes, there I was with tears streaming down my face for the second time that day.
My kids are used to their misty-eyed mama, but they still get annoyed with me. They hear one sniff and know I am at it again. I can practically hear their eyes roll. They don’t even bother to ask if I am okay anymore. They realize this is just how their mom is, and they are stuck with me. I walk around in a constant state of tears, and I have ever since I can remember.
If I am in McDonald’s and I hear a child order what my kids used to order (a Happy Meal with a chocolate milk), I get a dewy.
If I spot a teenager wearing a pair of pink Converse shoes like I used to own in the fifth grade, here come the water works.
If you tell me I look pretty, pass the damn Kleenex.
If I watch This Is Us, fucking forget it.
And laughing until I cry happens on the regular. It is almost as good as an orgasm.
I am a crier, and I was born this way. It is in my genes; my mother is a big fat crier, too. My sisters? Yep, they are big on the blubbering. They can bawl with the best of them. If there were an Olympics for criers, we would kick everyone’s ass.
It makes me who I am. I am a sensitive badass who will cry in front of anyone. I don’t care who you are I can’t hold my tears in.
People who let it all out and cry freely are my people. You need a shoulder? Here, use mine. Blow your nose in my hair, I don’t care. I prefer real over repressed, and crying over a mask. Honestly, I find it downright sexy. Have you ever seen Goodwill Hunting where Robin Williams is comforting Matt Damon and telling him it’s going to be okay as they are both sobbing? It kills me softly every single time.
Come unhinged, I dare you. Crying is like cleaning out your insides. It is freeing and, frankly, I believe if we saw a lot more people crying whenever they felt the urge, our world would be a happier place.
Crying parties should be a thing. Let’s put in the movie Beaches and sprinkle in some alcohol, maybe break out the baby books. It will feel great to let it all out. Crying doesn’t mean you are helpless or even sad. It is a release, and I dig it.
People who cry are mentally stronger. They aren’t concerned about looking weak or whether others will think they are too sensitive. They could give zero fucks if you think they are a baby. How liberating is that? They know exactly who they are and how they are feeling. Shit, if you have that kind of confidence, I want to be around you more than I want to hang with some dude who never cries, because you make me feel comfortable being myself. Don’t we all want to be surrounded by people who push us to be our true selves and not hide our emotions?
Personally, this past year has brought up a lot of scary things and emotions I had stuffed down without even realizing it. We all have these times that are scary and unknown: becoming a new mom, starting a new job, struggling financially, finding out about an illness, ending a relationship, and you know what helps? Crying, and it’s okay. It is beautiful.
I have cried almost every day for the past year. Sometimes they are big sessions alone in the bathroom, sometimes they are short ones while making dinner, and there are days when a good cry during a funny movie just happens and I always feel better afterwards.
And I am thankful, because I truly believe the crying has gotten me through some tough shit. That and lots of chocolate, of course, but mostly I credit the tears. And I’m not going to stop anytime soon.