It’s okay that you worry. It means you care.
It’s okay if they don’t understand why it matters to you so much. It’s okay that you need to hunker down now. You don’t have to understand it, anymore than they do. Soak. Soak the skin of your soul in tears.
Thick skin has its drawbacks. It makes it harder to feel. If you want to feel this, you can. You don’t have to strengthen your skin, your tears will do that on their own.
I’ve cried more in the past couple of weeks than I have in a long time.
That’s saying a lot. I’m a crier. To quote an old teacher, I cry when the coffee is good.
Gasping raging bellowing tears.
Tears of frustration.
Tears brought on by the gales of laughter.
Tears shed in completely vulnerable moments. Moments that made me feel free.
Tears brought by beauty, rising with gooseflesh on the back of my neck.
And this is a problem for some folks. Some of us see tears and want to make them stop. I’ve tried every trick in the book to hold back the tide. Eventually, saltwater always wins. Tears are a force to be reckoned with.
YOU are a force to be reckoned with.
If you can cry and create action, by all means, do.
Cry while you make the call, let the person on the other end of the line hear your trembling voice. Let them know you’re upset, and this shit matters.
But if you need to hold back for a bit, hold back. Be gentle with your ferociously tender heart. You don’t have to drag yourself up. Not yet.
But when you do, let them see your tearstained cheeks. Let that saltwater renew you.
Hold back if you must, but be proud of your tears. Tears don’t make you weak. They make you mighty.
