Big Boys Don’t Cry

What kind of a pussy cries? Everyone, so don’t kid yourself.

Recently, my mom fell down the stairs of her house and broke her leg and wrists. I was, at the time, taking classes to make a career change, and trying to open some businesses, as well as dealing with a few other things. The amount of stress I was under was pretty intense. But I didn’t cry.

I should have, but I didn’t. It wasn’t the first time I tried to be a stoic in the midst of overwhelming stress. Apparently I’m a slow learner.

Culture has created a dichotomy with regard to men’s emotional expression. We either express stoicism where men feel no emotions, and certainly not sadness or frustration. And we certainly wouldn’t cry. I mean what’s wrong with you, you pussy?!

The other position is that men don’t show their emotions, and women do, so clearly men should express their emotions in the same way, as frequently and as exuberantly as women. Aside from the fact that men do not do that, women hate it when they do.

Men are the stronger sex, in opposition to feminists. We need to be the stronger sex. Women want us to be stronger, and we are made to be stronger. But don’t mistake that very fundamental, universally observed fact, with “men are impervious to pain.” We aren’t.

The world is a tough place and anyone who doesn’t get overwhelmed is either half-assing life or an emotional drunk (meaning you have dulled your senses so as to avoid pain). It’s easy not to cry if all you do is play X-Box all day and smoke weed. And if you are living life fully and do not, or refuse to, cry then what you’re doing is refusing to feel your own or other people’s pain. It’s easy not to cry if you refuse to care about anyone else enough to cry over their problems, or your own.

Should you, as a man, break down and cry over everything? No. The world, your families, and your lives can’t stand constant breakdowns. But, if you don’t have someone or some way for you to unleash the emotional pain and stress that naturally comes with life then you are heading for disaster. It’s a good way to put yourself in an early grave.

You are not omnipotent.

I said my mom fell down the stairs and I didn’t cry. I had a panic attack instead. I freaked right the hell out about a week later. It took me a week to feel like I wasn’t going to have a heart attack. It took two weeks for me to get my daily energy back to 90%. I’m still not fully recovered. My recovery during high intensity cardio is still diminished.

I can tell you one thing I wasn’t helping—my family. I was trying to be strong for them, but because I tried to hold myself together like a stoic’s hero I hit a breaking point.

You can let the pressure off regularly by releasing your emotions appropriately and regularly: a good friend, your dad, an occasional cry, your wife, or whoever. You can pretend you are made of steel and break. Or you can just never form any close relationships in which case you’re not really strong because you are not actually taking on any pressure, but ignoring it.

We live in a fallen world. That sucks. We were not meant to. That sucks more. If you are disconnected from fact number one you will be broken. If you are disconnected from fact number two you will break yourself. Don’t break, de-stress. Goosfraba.

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