It’s My Party

and I’ll cry if I want to.

Isn’t that how the song goes? I watch a lot of true crime shows and the thing that always stands out is that the friends and loved ones of the victim often apologize for crying.  Why is that? Surely grief is a valid reason to shed unapologetic tears. I cried a lot during my pre-teen years but somewhere around seventh or eighth grade after my mother told me, “Stop letting people make fun at your expense,” I did a complete 180. If you said something about me, I went for the jugular. Hindsight, I took some comments too far, too mean, and they were completely unnecessary.

As I got older, I had a hard time finding balance between crying at the drop of a hat and overreacting to a slight. My go-to emotion was anger and I remember thinking that I would rather someone think I’m mean than to think I’m weak, or scared, or whatever emotion I was hiding behind the hostility.  I am still trying to find that balance. Even now, I don’t like crying in front of people. But if it happens, it happens. There is no shame in crying. Sometimes it’s necessary and it’s always cleansing. Cry if you want to. Cry if you need to. It’s okay. We won’t judge.

Here’s a funny as it relates to crying: In June, my family and I traveled to Virginia for my cousin’s graduation and there was food galore. After the festivities, I loaded up my plate: chicken and Nothing Bundt cake. I had saved half of my Starbucks from earlier in the day to enjoy the next morning with my cake. I might have dreamed about that cake. But in the commotion of folks fixing their own to-go plates and people asking you (i.e. me) to fix them something, there was some confusion. The next morning, I wake up, re-heat my coffee, and go to get my plate out of the refrigerator, and it is salad. SALAD!!! I tell my aunt–the reason I put my plate down in the first place–“You owe me your Bundt cake since I put my plate down to get yours.” Her reply: I’ve already eaten it. I didn’t cry…out loud. But internally, I was sliding down the shower wall, sobbing into my towel as the water pelted my broken soul.😭

Until Next Time, Inilya XOXO 

Published by inilyaspencer

Hello! First, I have to tell you this: I LOVE the smell of books! New books, old books, glossy-paged, picture filled books. I will open a book, hold it to my nose, close my eyes and slowly inhale. Okay, I'm so glad that I've gotten that off my chest. If that doesn't make you uncomfortable, then this blog is just for you. I enjoy writing and I often have to keep my imagination at bay as I meander through my 9-5. Please follow and feel free to share with your friends.

One thought on “It’s My Party

  1. I totally relate to this post. I was the type who absolutely refused to allow others see me cry. I cried but I cried alone. Now I am a bug cry baby and I really don’t care who sees me cry. I even cry during commercials. Lol
    It’s is quite freeing.
    Love this❤️😘🛐

    Like

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