Cry Baby

I don’t know about you but I hate crying. When I was little I never had issues with it. I remember my mum saying to me once that she thought I must enjoy the feeling of tears rolling down my face, as I used to turn the waterworks on at the drop of a hat.

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Then at the age of 15, I lost my Dad. I remember crying like I had never cried before. Completely uncontrollable, hysterical wailing. For days. I would go to sleep crying. I would wake up and for a few minutes not remember my sadness and then it would all come flooding back. I think I cried my body dry. And for the next 10 years, I hardly cried at all. I didn’t cry at movies or weddings. It was like nothing was left. I had used up my crying quota. I hardened and crying was a sign of weakness, even for a girl.

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People that know me would not describe me as ‘gushy’ or ‘huggy’. I was the friend you’d come to for practical advice, not necessarily a shoulder to cry on. Sure I’d be there if you needed me, but probably not the first friend you’d call if you were being all mushy.

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But recently this has changed. I find myself crying at ridiculous things. Tv, movies, adverts, YouTube clips,  sometimes if I read something particularly emotional at work or even if I stub my toe. It’s like I’ve hit my thirties and some switch inside me has flipped back and I’m a child again. Bloody waterworks central. And I don’t have any damn control over it. It’s infuriating and I hate it.

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I don’t know why I hate it so much. Maybe it’s a sign of aging hormones, maybe I’m letting go of all the pent up emotion I’ve had inside for years or maybe I’ve started to give less shits about what people think of me and being strong and hard isn’t as important as it used to be. But it’s annoying as it wrecks my makeup and makes my eyes red and puffy. So brain, if you could just suck it up once in a while and not cry at the baby kangeroo being born, or at someone singing a Whitney song that’d be great. As I’m seriously beginning to consider getting some shares in Kleenex.

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