Somewhere along the journey of trying to be an adult, I forgot how to cry. Let me say that again – I forgot how to cry. I let myself believe that adults don’t cry. I let myself carry the burden as I doom scrolled. I pushed away books that made me cry. Yes, I let myself become numb and push away pain and emotions. I forgot how to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After all, they mean nothing. Drops of salty water that leave me exhausted. They don’t power the world or move the needle. They don’t help me race. I can’t turn back time, go back, fix things or unsay words. I can not demand people to treat me right or beg for more. I forgot how to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I just brushed aside the tears in the beginning. But I kept doing it till my tear ducts dried out. Now tears refuse to come. They threaten to break dam but they don’t. They don’t feel they help. I don’t heal. I don’t let go of the pain. Instead they stay locked up within eating me alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It took me years to realize that I don’t cry. I wonder if the people of my past will be proud of me. The people who said I cried easily. The people who thought my tears were manipulative. Are they proud and glad that I now don’t cry? Are they shocked I don’t cry? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Me… I am exhausted because I don’t cry. I want to cry but I forgot how to cry. In 2026, I have to relearn to cry. To let my emotions wipe me out. To acknowledge the pain, the loss, the grief, the fears, the sadness, the reality I face. I need to learn to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There it is – a goal, a resolution for the year. A strange one – one I would have never anticipated making. But here we go. In 2026, I will relearn the skill I was born with – the skill to cry. The skill to show and share when I am uncomfortable. I will… or rather I hope I can learn how to cry.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Somewhere along the journey of trying to be an adult, I forgot how to cry. Let me say that again – I forgot how to cry. I let myself believe that adults don’t cry. I let myself carry the burden as I doom scrolled. I pushed away books that made me cry. Yes, I let myself become numb and push away pain and emotions. I forgot how to cry. After all, they mean nothing. Drops of salty water that leave me exhausted. They don’t power the world or move the needle. They don’t help me race. I can’t turn back time, go back, fix things or unsay words. I can not demand people to treat me right or beg for more. I forgot how to cry. I just brushed aside the tears in the beginning. But I kept doing it till my tear ducts dried out. Now tears refuse to come. They threaten to break dam but they don’t. They don’t feel they help. I don’t heal. I don’t let go of the pain. Instead they stay locked up within eating me alive. It took me years to realize that I don’t cry. I wonder if the people of my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[204],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10277","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-my-zen-spot"],"yoast_head":"\n