Lately we have been seeing more and more posts like the following: “A strong woman is one who is able to smile in the morning as if she didn’t cry all night”, which obviously have been around for “always”, but that’s the good thing about evolution, how you learn to observe and decode differently something you may have seen hundreds of times before.

This redefining of information versus its easy digestion created a domino of thoughts that could not go unnoticed. In an internal dialogue, then, these posts seem progressive, in favor of female empowerment, essentially cheering and considering it an advantage that a woman can not express her feelings. Because vulnerability and sensitivity are weaknesses.

It’s rude to say no, don’t be “sh*la and bossy”, don’t look weak, crying shows weakness, what the heck are you on your period, your hormones must have played a role, let’s trust a woman in a managerial position, away.

All the above sentence plays in our head with the voice and accent of Cynthia Nixon, in the excellent video “Be a lady, they said”, which presents the majesty of the patriarchy and the oppression experienced by a woman in a very disgusting way, sayings that we have learned to use them every day, considering them normal.

Obviously, it is an issue, which is not limited to the female sex, it’s just that there we can observe its manifestation more, since it goes hand in hand with many other things, equally and much more problematic.

We live in a society that teaches us that we must endure suffering at all costs, that it is strength not to leave a troubled marriage, to suppress your desires, to stay in your safe, but dull job, are signs of maturity.

Society doesn’t want pleasure, it wants utility, to be functional

The other day I attended a picnic in the park and among the conversations came a story of a man – third person – who had an allergic shock, passed out and later called his partner on the phone crying from the shock and apologizing and feeling big shame he was crying. Another girl said that during a conversation at a table, she was so stressed that she burst into tears, adding how embarrassed she felt because she does not feel comfortable crying in front of others.

These two stories revolved around a very familiar human core: that of shame

Laughter and crying are two sides of the same coin, and yet, while we feel quite comfortable laughing in front of people, we find it unnatural to cry. We waste hours, racking our brains to find “how to be happy”, as if this does not only happen in moments or as if only positive emotions have value in this world. Failures are prohibited, you cannot expose yourself.

Disappointments and sorrows must be metabolized immediately, move on. If this pressure of the following gave a little space to the darkness, to exist within us undisturbed, perhaps the light would come more quickly. Without trying to banish/suppress/sweep under the rug anything that makes us feel uncomfortable or unpleasant. Our body is much smarter than we think, it has a way of warning us about everything.

Just like when you cut your hand and feel pain and see the blood flowing to stop it or you would bleed to death, so it is when you feel a tightness in your stomach or a lump in your throat. And it won’t disappear if you pretend you don’t see it, just by crying this feeling can be liquefied and expelled, at least by finding a way out.

“You’re too sensitive, don’t be over the top,” a whole manipulative method, his gaslighting, has been based on this, on the guilt of crying, of discontent, of the open manifestation of any negative emotion. All of this, of course, is the opposite of what Belinda Cannon wanted, that is, for us to be happy feminists.

Crying, publicly or not, is not weakness, it is strength against a society that tries to tell you otherwise. It takes strength not to be afraid to show the human condition without guilt, it takes strength to be free.

We don’t need to show that we’re fine if we’re not, we don’t owe anyone our happiness, only ourselves. And to him we owe it to celebrate each of our feelings separately and loudly, every day.