Crybaby

I used to be a crybaby–tears would just easily come out even if it was something so simple as giving me a nickname I do not like–come age five or six, I stopped it. I remember that day I swore to myself that I will never cry so easily, especially in front of people. It was the day I got into trouble for some reason, and the three of us–my brother, older girl cousin and I were up for a spanking. I went first, and of course I was bawling my eyes out. My cousin looked at me and said something along the lines of, “You cry easily, that was nothing, it didn’t even hurt.” When I heard that, I thought to myself, “Maybe I am just imagining the pain. Maybe it isn’t appropriate to cry and to show others that I am in pain.” So that day, I decided to do just that.

I deemed crying for the weak. Growing up, I would still cry, but I would lock the doors behind me and suppress the sounds with pillows. Whenever an emotional moment came, and my eyes felt like they were becoming hot, I would tell myself, “Stop it. You have to be strong. Don’t let them see you.” Then I would turn away.

This crying thing was fortified even more during junior year in high school, when one of my favorite teachers gave me a letter, telling me to be strong because others look to me for strength. It gave me this sense of pride to have such an affirmation from one of the people I look up to then.

Right now, I’m thinking, maybe I misinterpreted strength and weakness as something connected with showing emotions. I rarely show anyone how I struggle, which may be the reason why others would think that I am always okay.

I readily offer strength–readily take responsibility of any situation. Which probably is the reason why I do not tell people how difficult it is becoming.

But then everything is bottled up inside. Through everything, no matter how the situation was, I always felt alone. Even though I knew friends were there to help, God was there to give comfort–I am alone.

I am discovering nowadays, that I am still that crybaby, but now, I can show someone that. Things are being broken inside of me as this person, who I look to for comfort, would know when I need comfort and when I need tough love. I have a mirror, who shows me what else is there to be dusted and polished.

I do not know the point of this article, but the point of the blog is to un-clutter the things in my head. This present time proves to be rather difficult for me to handle, for a number of reasons.

For whatever it’s worth, and if you did read until the end. I would like to say that everyone is a work in progress, everyone has something to learn and unlearn and if you think for one bit that you have learned all there is, you are in a dangerous place my friend.

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