This week, a movie made you cry, and I thought my heart was going to break. It was awful. You cried, then I cried, and then your Mom came into the room from the office, and she cried. Stella was even concerned, but she only cries when it’s time for food. But, as I look back on the experience, I want to encourage you to continue to feel and express your feelings, both when they feel good, and when they hurt. Especially when they hurt. Bottling up your worst and most painful feelings is like swallowing a little bit of poison every day; it might not kill you right away, but it’s going to tear you up inside. And eventually, it might kill you. Which is why you shouldn’t do that.
But first, back to the offending tearjerker. On Friday nights, we make popcorn and watch a movie. We started the tradition during the pandemic as a way to make Fridays different than every other day we couldn’t leave the house, and we’ve continued it because it’s fun. This week, your Mom was running late so I let you pick out the movie. You picked the 2018 remake of Benji, mostly because the picture in Netflix for Benji the Movie has a cute dog. Yes, it was rated TV-PG, and it wasn’t as kid friendly as our usual animated fare. But since it wasn’t Old Yeller and I was pretty sure Benji wouldn’t die at the end, I decided it was fine.
In the “all is lost” moment in this movie, the two children who befriended Benji are kidnapped, Benji tries to lead their mother to where they are, but the kidnappers have already left with the kids. The mother, furious that she’s wasted time following a dog she barely knows, yells mean things at Benji and sends him away into the city, where (of course) it rains on the poor sad and lonely dog. All is lost. You were sitting on my lap eating your popcorn when I heard the first huge sob. Big tears followed the sobs and within seconds, you were crying heavy, sad cries for poor Benji.
“It’s okay, it’s just a movie,” we tried to tell you. “Benji is going to be fine,” I said. And he was fine until the very end when in a classic suspense-building / why would you do that in a children’s movie you assholes maneuver, Benji was thrown against a wall, went limp, and the family that loved him thought he died. More big tears and some dirty looks from your Mom. Thankfully, he “woke up,” and all was fine.
As a three—year-old, you’re feeling big feelings and learning how to process them. Society is generally okay with a boy your age crying those tears. There is, however, some pressure to stop expressing your feelings as you grow. For example, a grown man shouldn’t cry in the grocery store because he’s tired and wants a snack. I look forward to you achieving that level of emotional restraint, but when should a grown man cry? When is it okay for adults to express their feelings?
He should cry when he needs to, is when. I’m not going to give you a list of occasions when I believe you’re allowed to cry, because while somewhat amusing, it’s dumb.
See, suppressing your emotions is bad for you. Anyone who has ever stewed over something for days only to eventually explode over something unrelated and trivial knows this. But in case you don’t believe me, research from UT Austin and the University of Minnesota found that “bottling up emotions can make people more aggressive.” So there’s that, along with plenty of other research that supports this assertion.
And while the belief that a man shouldn’t express his feelings is fading, the remnants of toxic masculinity that remain will tell you men should only feel victory, rage, and ejaculation.
Fuuuuuuuuuck that.
Feeling your feelings and expressing them both gives you the chance to deal with those feelings and helps raise your emotional intelligence. Emotional intelligence helps you understand and deal with your own and other people’s feelings, makes you a better leader, a better friend, and a better partner. And I’m not just talking about tears. I want you to be comfortable feeling and expressing a range of emotions.
When you’re happy, and you’re so happy that you feel like you’re flying through a blue sky with little white poofy clouds, take that flight. Fly into those clouds and realize they’re made of cotton candy that tastes salty-sweet like candied bacon. Fill your heart with that joy and don’t be afraid to show and share it.
And when you’re hurt and hurting, I want you to feel that too. Because feeling the sadness is the only way through it. As awful as it is, sometimes you have to sink down low into a deep, dark, pit of awful and cry the hardest tears until somehow, you hit bottom, and you realize there’s no more tears to cry. And in that pit of despair, a little door opens up. Suddenly, there are stairs that will take you back up, when you’re ready to walk up them.
Of course, there are more feelings than flying through the clouds and being down in a hole. Beyond happy and sad, there’s a whole range of other emotions you should be able to feel, understand, and express: frustration, anger, pride, jealousy, shame, hope, disgust, enjoyment, and fear. You may feel several at once, some stronger than others, and even feel emotions that conflict at the same time. Becoming an emotionally mature and healthy adult means learning how to recognize, express, and handle all of these different feelings.
It takes real courage to be this vulnerable, and the funny thing is, we admire others who act this way while not letting ourselves do the same. Anna Bruk and her team called this the beautiful mess effect. “Even when examples of showing vulnerability might sometimes feel more like weakness from the inside, our findings indicate, that, to others, these acts might look more like courage from the outside.” Bruk was inspired by Brené Brown’s book Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead in which she writes, “we love seeing raw truth and openness in other people, but we are afraid to let them see it in us...Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me.”
Be brave, be strong, and be vulnerable. And just like on movie night, your Mom and I will laugh with you, cry with you, and be there for you as you feel these big emotions. Because our love for you is bigger than anything either of us have ever felt.
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.