“Mommy!” my youngest screams as he limps into the house with tears streaming down his cheeks and blood dripping down his leg. I immediately sit on the floor, where he collapses on my lap, and the tears flow double time. I hold him in my arms and rock until he calms down a little. Then I get him all cleaned up, and back outside he goes, full pep back in his step.
He got what he needed from me most – a safe place to fall, someone to see and acknowledge his pain, and someone to clean and bandage his cut. And less than five minutes later, he was back out the door, ready to jump back on his bike.
Crying is a release. Whether it’s physical pain, frustration, humiliation, sadness, or relief, the tears are all the emotions overflowing from our bodies.
I have always taught my boys that it is important to let it out, to cry, to scream if they need it, but get it out.
The idea that tears are something to be ashamed of or a sign of weakness is crazy to me now, but it took me years to realize this for myself. Tears are a natural release, just as laughter is.
“Suck it up.” “Be a man.” “Don’t cry.” “Don’t be a crybaby.” “You want to cry? I’ll give you something to cry about.” These phrases make me cringe. Who decided that crying was such a bad thing, especially for boys? How many grown men have you witnessed now having temper tantrums or turning to violence?
Unreleased emotions get stored in our bodies only to cause an explosion another time or, worse, never find a way out and physically manifest into something else. Crying is a form of regulation, of letting what you’re feeling flow, just as laughter is.
When we let someone cry in our presence without trying to stop them, we hold space for their vulnerability and pain. Likewise, showing our pain and letting the tears flow, especially in front of someone else, is an act of bravery.
We welcome tears in our family just as much as we welcome laughter; they are often not far apart. You will never hear me tell one of my boys not to cry. They have seen me cry and know crying is a natural response to life sometimes.
These days I find my tears come more from the touching moments, the kindness I see in my kids, the small gestures of strangers, the songs that tug at my heart and the profound moments of gratitude.
My husband knows me well – he will eagerly show me a video or something he read and preface it with, “I know you’ll love this, but you’ll probably cry.”
I think I have these moments because I have paved the way with my sad tears. I have let enough emotion out so the happy tears have a clear path. I hope I can also keep the channels in my boys open to do the same. The last thing this world needs is more grown adults filled with bottled pain and rage who now inflict it on each other. That, as a society, gives us all something to cry about.
