It’s Not a Crying Shame

So here’s the thing about me — I’m a crying master, a crying enthusiast, a freaking ninja of crying.

One moment I’ll be a seemingly normal, non-crying, emotionally stable adult and then Wham! Bam! before you even know what hit you (or me, for that matter) I’m crying. And then just as quickly as I started crying, I’ll stop. Just like that. Without any warning. I’m sneaky like that…like a ninja.

I cry when I’m really happy. I cry when I’m really sad. I cry when I’m  mad because I’m no good at glaring so I don’t really have any other options. I cry when people say mildly nice things to me. I cry when I say mildly nice things to other people. I cry when I see other people crying. I cry when I think about other people crying. I cry when I think about myself crying…You get the gist. Crying is pretty much my go-to form of expression for every single human emotion.

I just can’t help myself. I’m a sappy sucker. I fall for every cloying marketing or entertainment trick in the book. I cry over romantic comedies, even the really corny, terrible ones I should be ashamed of watching, let along crying over. I cry over sitcoms, Hallmark commercials, YouTube vidoes…

I don’t want to brag, but I think may be single-handedly keeping the Kleenex industry in business with my repeated viewings of Steel Magnolias. (If you don’t know what this is, Google it. And if you want to devote a solid two hours of your life to weeping hysterically, watch it.) If you have seen this movie and you did so without crying, go see a doctor. You are broken or you’re a robot, either way you should get that checked out.

I know for a fact, it is impossible to watch this film without crying. I’ve tried. About 15 to 20 times. Each and every time, it gets me. Each and every time I watch it, I think, this time (unlike every other time), I’m going to be able to keep my composure and not break down into a tear-soaked mess. And each and every time, my tear ducts prove me wrong.

At this point, you’re probably thinking I’m subjecting myself to this undue emotional distress because I’m crazy or an idiot. Either way, you’re probably thinking I should stop watching this movie.

I completely disagree with you because I’ve never much minded crying. In fact, sometimes I kind of like it. I don’t subscribe to the WASPy notion that showing emotion and expressing  yourself is some sort of negative character trait. I say, if you feel like crying, just cry, damnit. Who cares?

Cry at home. Cry alone. Cry in public. Cry in front of strangers. Cry wherever the heck you want as long as you have an adequate supply of Kleenex.

That being said, just don’t get caught crying at work. Not even I can condone that kind of behavior. You’ve got to show some modicum of self-restraint some time. Just keep it in check from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., then go home and let the tears flow to Steel Magnolias like a normal person.

Take it from a pro, that’ll do the trick.*

*Unless, of course you’re a robot. In which case, I’ve got nothing.

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