How do we talk about the the things we need to say without breaking down? So, many think tears directly relate to weakness or being broken. Sometimes this is true but for me I can try to hold them back but everyone who is close to me knows that my eyes well up when I am happy when I am laughing, and also through the difficult heartbreaking shit too. Sometimes I cry out of joy, and other times to put it simply – I have an extremely tender heart and I usually underestimate my strength. Letting the tears fall is a release for me – some have told me they can’t talk to me because they don’t want to see me cry. If we are going to split hairs about it – I will suck it up and not cry but also stop yelling at me and talking down to me in ultimatums.
I have trained myself to deal with many things by hiding and digging deeper to bury the things that have become patterns in my life. I have spoken up but it is always when I have reached my explosive point. I carry on and keep moving forward but at the cost to myself and who I am. I can fundamentally disagree with some and just sit there and listen to them but in the last five to six months I have started to voice my opinion – not to disagree or cause an argument but to get into the habit of speaking up for myself.
There are two sides to everything, every relationship, and every choice we make. We need to be conscious of this and the people around us, we need to build each other up instead of tearing them down. Give back when you can and live on a little less that day. Don’t buy that cup of coffee for yourself but give it expecting nothing in return from the shivering person sitting against the building outside covered in a trash bag trying to stay dry.
I used to write with a pen and any piece of paper I could get my hands on, I have notebooks full of words, love letters, poetry, and stories. Now, I stare at a screen when I write – the passion I had for my pen and paper fades because typing seems so easy and more efficient. As a child I remember my grandfather typing on a typewriter – pushing back and forth as he would reach one side of the paper or the other, the ding when he hit the return key, and when he would manually feed a new sheet of paper in the machine – and the hunting and pecking of his typing skills. I hardly ever hear that sound any more but when I do it brings tears to my eyes – it brings back a heartfelt memory back and a reminder that life used to be very different.