I was speaking to a friend the other night about the act of crying in public. He mentioned that at one point he could not conceive of this particular thing, but as he has gotten older he has realized the act of being vulnerable and the healing powers it has for one's soul.
I admit that I still have this inability. There are very few in my life that see me cry...very few. It isn't that I am ashamed or scared to cry in front of others, I just don't allow myself (or haven't gotten) vulnerable enough to do this. The question that came up during this conversation was this: is it a shame or is it just not something done?
Shame...I can't see it as shameful. Shame is something you regret because you think it is wrong. I don't feel wrong because I don't cry in front of others, I just don't get there. I remember the ex asked me this very specific question, "So you don't feel comfortable crying in front of me?" My answer...no. And I didn't. However, oddly enough, not too many weeks later I was crying in front of him. It might have been because he said something very hurtful, and he didn't realize it, and my complete moment of vulnerability. Had I been in a different state of mind I never would have allowed that to happen.
I specifically remember living with my old roommate, and I came home after a terribly stressful day, and in stead of talking about it...I broke. I cried for at least 5 minutes. I couldn't wrap my mind around all the bad events of the day. I walked away from her when she said, "In all the years I have known you this is the most vulnerable that you have ever been." I remember taking great offense to this statement.
As I relayed this story to my friend he told me that perhaps because she was a crier that she saw the only way of being vulnerable as shedding tears. I held resentment because of all the times that I was vulnerable with her she must have never realized it. I felt hurt, as though she thought I was holding back from her and that had never been my intention.
I have realized this...everyone shows vulnerability in different ways. Sure, we automatically see tears as being the number one way of vulnerability. But what about those times when we are telling someone of a dark deep secret and in stead of looking them in the eyes we glance around the room perhaps afraid of their reactions, and our hands shake and our voice shakes but we speak out secret anyway. Or what about when we look someone in the eye and tell them that we love them. Not the I love you because we are good friends, but the love that makes the butterflies and the hopes and dreams and actions of their good and bad traits all aflutter in our spirits.
To me this is just as vulnerable as crying...and to me...even more so. My most vulnerable moments are the ones that when you ask me a direct, "How are you?" I don't respond with an already scripted answer of, "Great! How are you." I guarantee that even though that may be true, my vulnerable soul will want to scream why I am great. Or if I answer with the same, I might want to yell across the room that the world is crashing. When I tell you more of why I am happy or perhaps that I am not good...that is my vulnerability.
But how often are we vulnerable? How often do we let go and trust others with ourselves? I have realized that this hurts the most when those we already trust don't get our vulnerability. I had a friend once keep some very important things from me about her life at the time. She later told me she didn't want to burden me. What I relayed to her was that she was stealing my free will. She was stealing my freedom of deciding that for myself. I guess sometimes I need to listen to my own advice...it is hard to remember sometimes.
I admit that I still have this inability. There are very few in my life that see me cry...very few. It isn't that I am ashamed or scared to cry in front of others, I just don't allow myself (or haven't gotten) vulnerable enough to do this. The question that came up during this conversation was this: is it a shame or is it just not something done?
Shame...I can't see it as shameful. Shame is something you regret because you think it is wrong. I don't feel wrong because I don't cry in front of others, I just don't get there. I remember the ex asked me this very specific question, "So you don't feel comfortable crying in front of me?" My answer...no. And I didn't. However, oddly enough, not too many weeks later I was crying in front of him. It might have been because he said something very hurtful, and he didn't realize it, and my complete moment of vulnerability. Had I been in a different state of mind I never would have allowed that to happen.
I specifically remember living with my old roommate, and I came home after a terribly stressful day, and in stead of talking about it...I broke. I cried for at least 5 minutes. I couldn't wrap my mind around all the bad events of the day. I walked away from her when she said, "In all the years I have known you this is the most vulnerable that you have ever been." I remember taking great offense to this statement.
As I relayed this story to my friend he told me that perhaps because she was a crier that she saw the only way of being vulnerable as shedding tears. I held resentment because of all the times that I was vulnerable with her she must have never realized it. I felt hurt, as though she thought I was holding back from her and that had never been my intention.
I have realized this...everyone shows vulnerability in different ways. Sure, we automatically see tears as being the number one way of vulnerability. But what about those times when we are telling someone of a dark deep secret and in stead of looking them in the eyes we glance around the room perhaps afraid of their reactions, and our hands shake and our voice shakes but we speak out secret anyway. Or what about when we look someone in the eye and tell them that we love them. Not the I love you because we are good friends, but the love that makes the butterflies and the hopes and dreams and actions of their good and bad traits all aflutter in our spirits.
To me this is just as vulnerable as crying...and to me...even more so. My most vulnerable moments are the ones that when you ask me a direct, "How are you?" I don't respond with an already scripted answer of, "Great! How are you." I guarantee that even though that may be true, my vulnerable soul will want to scream why I am great. Or if I answer with the same, I might want to yell across the room that the world is crashing. When I tell you more of why I am happy or perhaps that I am not good...that is my vulnerability.
But how often are we vulnerable? How often do we let go and trust others with ourselves? I have realized that this hurts the most when those we already trust don't get our vulnerability. I had a friend once keep some very important things from me about her life at the time. She later told me she didn't want to burden me. What I relayed to her was that she was stealing my free will. She was stealing my freedom of deciding that for myself. I guess sometimes I need to listen to my own advice...it is hard to remember sometimes.
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