« Tears are the extreme smile.» Stendhal, Photo by Amanda Flavell on Unsplash
Yesterday, I cried. The tears had been waiting impatiently for several days, even weeks, and they finally came out. And this morning, I felt as if I had been washed of my sorrows, as if I had been freed of a weight.
And I said to myself, here, I will write about these tears, so necessary to our mental health.
Sweet or bitter, tears are always a relief.
Alfred De Musset, Un Caprice
Tears feared
We fear them however, these small drops of salty water that pearl from our eyes. By pride, we hide our own tears, we swallow them, we hang them. And we fear those of others, this shamelessness, these moments of distress to which we are not accustomed. How can we face this storm of emotion in others? How do we deal with distress and find the right words?
And then, it’s embarrassing someone who cries, looks turn, imaginations start to work, death, break-up, dismissal, we imagine the worst… It’s just life sometimes, and yes sometimes life makes you cry.
The reflection of emotions
Tears are not always sad, they are just the testimony of too many emotions. If they are more often related to sadness, it is because negative emotions overwhelm us more easily than positive ones.
But it happens, you don’t cry at a wedding out of sadness. No, you don’t cry out of desperation and mentally cry “Why not me!!? ». No, we cry because it is beautiful, because the happiness and emotion of the bride and groom and their families touches us.
And even in such cases, we hide our tears, we don’t sob, we shyly let them flow, or we swallow them whole.
Tears by proxy
We also cry in front of the movies, sad or just touching. Who hasn’t come out of a movie theater with wet and salty cheeks?
And you know what? We love it! Personally, I have my top 10 movies that make me cry every time! Hatchi… that dog… my God, two liters of tears guaranteed!
Well, I must admit, I also cry in front of sports. Yes, I know, it’s weird, but I’m not the only one. (I know one, big with hair more salt than pepper…).
Well, in this kind of case, indeed, I avoid the noisy sobs and I turn to a small tear that I chase away with a phalanx. But the victories, the joy that the athletes feel transports me emotionally, I feel it and it makes them sink. The sadness of a defeat, and this pain without appearing families, coaches. There too, the tears rise.
When I read, it is rarer, but I have also cried at times. In literature, bringing tears is an art that I admire.
You don’t cry to just anyone.
In order for tears to escape, in order to deign to let them fall, in order not to try to swallow them, you have to be with people you love, people you trust.
Personally, I’m a crying girl, okay, I admit it. And my friends know that, not many of them can boast of not … not having seen me cry. A crying girl a bit melodramatic sometimes, and if you add a few glasses, I turn into a modern-day Antigone. But I don’t care, because if I cry with them, it’s because I don’t feel judged.
Besides, most of the time, it’s a little word, a little gesture on their part that creates the breach, and the tears burst out without warning.
I remember one day when I went through a break-up, in professional disappointment, I had a lot on my mind. But in the evening, I had to meet my mother who was spending the evening with me in Paris. I didn’t want to ruin that moment.
However, as soon as she arrived, she sensed that something was wrong. In 30 seconds, she opened the valve of sadness. And it did me a lot of good not to keep everything.
The lonely tears, a little pleasure
The most liberating tears for me are those that are shed alone. In front of a movie, or simply when life has gone a little too far, when fatigue plays on our emotions, when memories resurface or simply when the cup is full, we are alone, and tears are without shame, without limit.
In such cases, my sobs go beyond the limit of reasonableness. I like to look at my reflection shaken by despair, I contemplate this awful face deformed by emotions. And generally, the ugliness of the painting only increases their intensity. And you know what, it feels good!
Well, there are still people who remain beautiful when they cry. When my face becomes a Picasso, some become Boticelli… In fact, I have often repeated to one of my friends, “You are beautiful when you cry. ».
And when the tears have dried up, when the tank is empty, then I contemplate myself again, and I find myself more beautiful. Like a devastated landscape after the storm, devastated but peaceful.
Conclusion
I know that this blog post is probably weird, that it’s not in my habits. But I wanted to do it.
I wanted to, to tell you to let your tears flow, let your emotions flow. Cry, feel and smile again!
Like a sun after a hurricane, my smile now illuminates my face.