Month: January 2017

Weeping over spilt milk

Emotionally speaking, on the scale of cries at toilet paper commercials to I was born without tear ducts, I comfortably dangle my legs over edge of the toilet paper end of the spectrum and drink in the view.

It’s my natural state of readiness, I can’t help it and I can’t say I really want to either. I am just a massive fan of having a big ol’ cry sometimes. I liken it to a thunderous summer storm rolling through town on a hot and humid day – it releases the pressure.

Thing is, it’s gotten worse over the years and all I can put it down to is a combination of getting older and having kids.

There are many well chronicled injustices that come with getting older, like surplus folds of skin and the constantly expiring warranties of your joints and bodily functions. But, lurking behind these mildly worrisome battle scars, or perhaps because of them, there are a few really great perks. And the best one, by far, has to be being a better friend to yourself. This may not be a feeling shared universally, but you start to feel a little more comfortable in your skin as you get older.

Similarly, having kids weakens any stoicism you might’ve once enjoyed because there’s nothing like watching the beauty and innocence of a little person you created living and feeling every moment 100 per cent honestly to make you cherish and fear everything precious.

There are some exceptions to this newfound freedom, though, and crying in the middle of Target over a $15 polka dot swimming costume I wasn’t allowed to change for my daughter was one of those times. Not my finest moment. In my defence, I was heavily pregnant at the time, so the kill switch on my waterworks setting was on the blink.

Miraculously, as I stormed out of the store, at my glacial pregnancy pace, and wondered aloud why I had angry tears spilling on to my cheeks over something that wasn’t really a big deal, it garnered enough pity from the store manager to follow me and not only let me exchange the cossie, but to also give me a big cuddle.

That’s the healing power of letting the tears roll. I highly recommend it, anytime; when you’re at home watching a crappy life insurance commercial while you’re waiting for The Real Houswives of Wherever to start screaming at each other or in a crowded shopping mall slipping on the spilt milk you couldn’t see for the tears.

If you’re in need of a good weep, check out these videos: