Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Don’t Cry!


Don’t Cry!


By Veronika Sophia Robinson

In an amazing moment of synchronicity, we were having a family discussion on the way to town about men and crying, when Paul stopped for a newspaper. The headline on The Guardian was Don’t Cry Andy ~ in relation to Andy Murray being the first English person to reach the Wimbledon finals for more than seventy years.


I caught a glimpse of Andy crying yesterday when he came runner-up, and was expressing his immense gratitude for all the support he’s had. I was overjoyed that he showed this side of himself. Overjoyed that he was ‘being real’. I cried with him and for him.


As a child, my dad would say to me when I was crying “Have a good cry, get it out of your system.”


My husband cries easily, and I wouldn’t have him any other way. To me, it doesn’t make him weak but quite the opposite. A man who cries is strong because he trusts himself, and those he’s with enough to reveal his true self.


A man who can cry ~ a man who is in touch with his emotional life ~ is one who will understand your emotions. And a man who understands your emotions will understand his children’s emotions. And if truth be told, don’t we all want to have an empathetic father? A father can’t understand his children if he doesn’t have emotional access to his inner realms.

One of my pet parenting peeves is hearing men (and women!) say to their sons “Don’t cry. Be a man!” Why on Earth should half the human species be exempt from this expression of emotion? Why should a three-year-old boy who scrapes his knee not be able to have a natural bodily reaction to the physical pain he’s experienced? Why should a teenage boy who has just lost his first love to his best friend not be able to share how much it hurts?


The reason many people perpetuate the ‘don’t cry’ lesson is because we live in a culture that hides behind ‘stiff upper lips’, ‘grief with dignity’ (what the hell does that mean?) or even a ‘false modesty’.


Many women in the natural parenting field are with life partners who, for whatever reasons, don’t necessarily sing off the same hymn sheet and discussions on parenting can become quite fraught, but generally the discussions end up with one or both parents closing down and not communicating clearly or effectively, or at all. Unfortunately, people in these situations rarely recognise the root cause of this dysfunction: a childhood of emotional suppression.


If men were raised with the safety and freedom to cry as and when was needed, they’d be able to express themselves without fear and the fear of being judged.


Intimacy comes when we can open up to another. Another way to look at intimacy is this: in-to-me-see. Yes, it’s about looking at who we truly are, and when we can make friends with our fears and our emotions, then we’re more able to step up in relationships and conduct them openly and honestly.


Tears are shed in sadness and in joy. These rivers of life are meant to flow. I urge you, let your sons (and daughters) cry when they fall over, have a fight with a friend, feel disappointed, sad, bereft or happy with joy, excitement and pleasure. Let them cry when they’re moved by a beautiful piece of music, artwork or display in Nature. Let them cry when they're empathising with someone else's pain.


If you find yourself uncomfortable with your child’s displays of emotion, it is worth doing a journey into your inner world and asking if the very things that make you uncomfortable are ones that you weren’t allowed to express as a child.


This is your chance to help heal a family pattern.