cry cry cry

Crying. Happy tears, sad tears, angry tears. There are so many flavors. I've never understood why this is seen as weak. Somehow, I ended up falling into the trap of this popular belief and suppressing pretty much any emotion I've ever felt because I needed to be strong.

I guess I should give a little context to why I've been fixated on this notion lately. On September 5th, 2015, I came home from work and found my sister dead. That did a number on me, but not like I thought it would, initially. I was confused, but I was fine. I felt bad for not feeling as bad as I thought I should. I didn't how to feel anymore. Like I said, I had to continue to be the strong one, which I associated with no tears and no fears.

About two weeks ago, I was laying on the floor in my room, upset because the guy I was dating appeared to be blowing me off....yet again. All of a sudden, completely unwarranted, I found myself screaming and crying and laying on the bed I found her on. In the midst of this anguish, I felt so powerful and free. I'd never felt stronger. I felt in control of my emotions, as strange as it sounds, for the first time in so long. In that moment, that I lay there and screamed "why?" to the top of my lungs, I felt renewed and a sense of relief. I'd finally felt.

I'm currently truly, madly, deeply grieving. A lot. But you know what, it's okay. You know what else, it's okay that I'm not okay. I'm allowed to be sad. I'm allowed to cry for no damn reason at all. I'm allowed to feel sad when I hear a song that reminds me of her and suddenly remember I can't tell her about it.

Here's my point, kids. Cry your little hearts and don't you dare feel one ounce of shame about it. You're a beautiful being and tears only make you glisten more.