When I watched his tears fall, the innocent drops fell without conviction. He wiped them quickly, for fear of not wanting to be seen in such a state. I embraced him as wholly as I could. I gave him my shoulder and he resisted. I was puzzled. He’s allowed to be vulnerable, this loss was his just as much mine. I had sheltered him all his life, mending his every hurt. Now, when he’s taller and stronger than me, I just assumed he was able to deal with his emotions. I was wrong. My motherly instinct told me something was very wrong. For a while I forgot my pain, because when your child is hurting you lose your senses. I could see the same devastation in his face, the same sorrow and the same tears I was experiencing. We hugged, and as I felt his overwhelming heart barely beat, I also felt the heaviness of the cry that needed to be released but somehow was being forced in. Why was he resisting?
Why is it we disregard the tears a man needs to cry? Why is it looked down upon when they show such vulnerability? He’s human after all; he feels, he hurts. Why should he bottle up his emotions? I fail to believe women are the only emotional creatures. We are openly allowed to display our cries. Without a second thought we are comforted and consoled. Yet a man has to hide and battle the cyclone of thoughts and eruption of emotions out of fear that he would seen less of a man.
It was the first time since he had grown up that I felt his emotions over mine. I never talked to him about opening up to his emotions and I was guilty; as a young mother, I told him ‘boys don’t cry’. I never for one moment questioned the reasons behind my words. And now, when all he wanted to do was cry, I couldn’t make him. He couldn’t express the same right that was given to me, even expected of me.
Society has led us to believe a man’s strength lies in his dignity, but under that armor he too holds a tender heart, one that feels and suffers emotional pain. Men too yearn for affection but it’s disregarded for them to solicit such behavior because it will tarnish an image. Being vulnerable doesn’t discount your value as a man. It shows you too are human.
Yes, we’re built differently. It’s in our makeup to not want to display certain behaviors. Yes, we are wired differently too but our hearts, they pump equally, they hurt equally and they break equally. Our tears were meant to be shed and our hearts were meant to feel the ache. Suppressing their struggles only erupts in other forms of behavior, perhaps that is why silence and anger dominate their anatomy.
It’s affection we all crave, to be understood. What is felt and how it is processed to what is displayed, bears a disconnect for men. Somehow, being sensitive and crying makes them feel less of a man. We unknowingly burden them with our emotions and the need to be understood. In the same way, how do we allow these souls to walk amongst us as if they feel no pain or sadness and releasing tears became a sign of weakness.
I held on to him, until he could release those tears. I too felt a sense of relief, for sometime I forgot, I was the one that needed to be held. We both lost someone that day, but we both formed a mindful bond too. I looked up at those teary, misty brown eyes as I touched his supple cheek, ‘It’s ok to cry, boys can cry, you can cry if you want to.’