I like to cry.
Generally, I cry because I’m a softy and I have heart strings that are easily pulled. I also cry because crying always makes me feel better when my given circumstances, my choices, or the choices of others cause me to feel poorly.
You will, however, probably never see me cry because I don’t like the way people react to crying.
I don’t want to be asked what’s wrong. I don’t want to be soothed. I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want to be cheered up. I don’t want my feelings witnessed or validated. I don’t want to be hugged or stroked. I don’t want to be distracted. I want to experience the feeling. I want to cry.
I wasn’t always pro-crying.
Up until my early twenties, I did everything in my power not to cry whether I was in public or not. And even after I started allowing myself to cry, it took me many more years to figure out that crying is in fact a good thing. I don’t remember a specific moment when it finally clicked but, at some point, I stopped resisting, started feeling, and realized that crying helped me feel better.
I can’t guarantee crying will help everyone to be happy but, I suspect, people who can’t or won’t cry are more likely to be unhappy more of the time. I can say that with some confidence because I was once one of those people.