Go ahead, call me that.
Yes, a cry baby- that’s what!
You could say that.
I AM a cry baby. I do cry a lot.
Image source: Tumblr
But you know what else I do.
I laugh. A lot. Harder than most.
I feel. A lot. More than most.
I experience. Wholly. Completely.
Most people cry when they are hurt, grieving, mourning.
I, on the other hand, cry when I watch Chandler propose to Monica, for what could easily be my 1000th time. Or when I trip over air. Or when the radio airs my favorite song. Even when a kid hits me with a foam sword and my body’s instinctive hit=tearworks response makes me stain his shirt with the coffee I’d waited more than thirty minutes for! Yes, in those cases, I might not know what exactly I am crying for (the kid or my coffee; most probably, the latter) but crying I AM!
Suggested read: This is how I love you
I cry before breakups. I cry during breakups. I, obviously, cry afterwards.
I cry when plans fall through. When a friend who promised to call doesn’t. When I do poorly on a test. When I am reading about death. When I see sickness. Or poverty. Or even when I can’t get my dog to eat.
I know that’s too much crying, by any standards. And I’ve told myself that. Sometimes, I’ve even wondered if I should invest in a tissue company!
Image source: Tumblr
Earlier, tearing up every now and then would make me self-conscious, embarrassed and even, guilty. In retrospect, I know that the forced cycle of denial, avoidance and trying to make the tears go away didn’t help- not with holding it in and stopping them from pouring out, nor from making me feel worse.
And trust me, I tried. A lot. I tried mental alphabet-recitations, counting, blaming allergies or even cooking up excuses. Worse, I even tried leaving the room! Nothing worked.
As time passed, I worked my way through these intense crygasms, with acceptance.
And it worked. Whoosh.
Now, each time I feel the sob-storm closing in, I let the wobbly vocal inflections take me, allow the lump in my throat to send quivers down my body and let my face get splotchy and my nose a cute tomato-red.
It works. Each time.
And guess what- I don’t feel bad about it either.
Because here’s what crying has helped me learn, about myself, other criers and this tragedy, we call LIFE!
Image source: Tumblr
You can go through life allowing your emotions to surface only in measured, regulated doses or you can go through life, wearing them on you like proud badges of living in this circus, whole-heartedly. It doesn’t matter whether your motley suit evokes a few laughs or your falls summon a few pity sighs- as long as you feel okay about this rather exhausting (often awkward) task of wearing your emotions on you because they ARE what made you beautiful on the inside and out, you will feel healthy about this cleansing act.
Suggested read: Why we need to change the way we look at forgiveness
Getting through life holding it in because people call you a cry baby or other names won’t. It will not only make you feel worse about yourself but also do nothing to stop the tears. And THAT would be a real tragedy.
Today, I don’t look at the mirror each morning to give myself a perky pep-talk for a tears-free day. Although I do wish that the sight of a couple of 60-year-olds, married for a lifetime does not make me bump into a car in the parking, coz, well, you know, blurred vision, teary-eyed! But you get the point.
I hope and pray for my emotions to come, as they may- a bout of laughter so intense I can feel it in the hollow of my stomach for hours on an end, a smile so genuine it stays on long after the reason’s gone, happiness so wholesome that I could live a lifetime on a sliver and of course, tears so true that once they have splashed down, I can marvel at how cute my red nose looks!
Afterward, I grab a glass of water, because I know they will pay a visit again.
C’mon my cried-out nose looks just THAT cute!
Could you pass the tissues, please?
What- we are out?
I told you my investment idea was a winner!
Featured image source: Google, copyright-free image under Creative Commons License