Swallow it

Alright, so let's all take a few seconds (or more) to laugh at the title because it's a little bit funny and we're all just a little bit immature. I'm sure that some parts might get a little bit dodgy with the whole swallowing reference, but don't be fooled, this isn't meant to be a funny post, it's about emotions and vulnerability and just the mention of those two words probably made you want to close out of this window, run away, and never look back, but please, just stay a while!

For those of you who know me, you probably haven't seen me cry - not because I don't cry or because I don't have emotions, because trust me I do and I definitely do.

Whenever I feel like crying in any situation, whether it be in happiness, joy, sorrow, or pain, I don't do it. I can feel it coming, but I choose to fight it, I refuse to cry. When I start to feel those tears well up in my eyes and that lump start to form in my throat, I don't let it out, I swallow it. I swallow it and pretend like that weird moment before I was about to cry, didn't just happen.

And I know that I'm not the only one who does it, even though it's not talked about, I am positive I'm not the only one. We get this notion in our heads that tears are a sign of weakness and I think that I am finally realizing that's not true (no, not in the cliche "tears aren't weakness, from the beginning of time it's a sign that you're alive" quote way - but we'll get to that later).

When I think back to the times where I chose to swallow the lump and fight back the tears there is one common thread. It wasn't that I was sad or frustrated or embarrassed or any other emotion on the spectrum. Each and every time I decided to swallow that lump, it was because something deeply affected me at the core; whether that was me relating too closely to someone's story or feeling deep love for a friend/family member or being passionate in my purpose, whatever was being talked about was something that really hit home for me. The tears don't necessarily come from the same emotions, rather, they come from places that are truly important to me and my life. Tears aren't necessarily a sign that you're alive, rather they are an indicator of what you're living for.

I've begun to see crying in a new light; I don't see it so much as weakness anymore, but a sign of a importance and if you let it, an indicator of a powerful moment or conversation just waiting to happen.

Imagine if in that conversation where I was feeling uncomfortable because I, too, felt like I didn't belong in the group at times - what an immensely powerful conversation could and would follow. Imagine what a powerful dialogue would follow if you just had the courage to tell your story and let the other person know that they are not alone. If you didn't swallow that lump, if you didn't fight those tears, how impactful would that conversation be, not just for the other person, but for you as well? If you didn't dismiss that feeling in your stomach or the lump in your throat, where would that conversation lead you? I'm not a big fan of what if's and this isn't about regret, it's about seeing missed opportunities and moving towards change.

Tears are tied deeply to who and what we value, and  in letting people see our values, we let them see who we truly are and that can be a scary thing. Being vulnerable can be uncomfortable, it can be terrifying, but it can also be freeing and exhilarating. Vulnerability is often confused with weakness, so saying that vulnerability is the key (to life really) might be a little hard to wrap your head around, but I have learned (and I am still learning) that vulnerability opens doors that secrets and fear keep locked, chained, and deadbolted.

Being vulnerable. It's a hard thing to do, it's something I try to practice daily, but I too, slip up. I still swallow that lump, I still hold back the tears, but eventually, I let them out. Maybe not in front of people, maybe I don't say the things I need to in the moment, but when I finally let go and release them, I can see what truly matters to me. Being more vulnerable is a rewarding, yet difficult practice; it is a change in your life that will be beyond worth it.

That lump. It's our initial reaction to swallow it, but I challenge you to fight that first reaction and dig deeper, push further, and allow it to come out. If you let it out, you'd be surprised at how much is in that weird achy lump in your throat. So much power, so much of you, is in there, if you would just let it out.

You don't have to go spill your soul to every person that you come in contact with, you don't have to go around crying all the time, but I am asking that you just try to have the courage to tell your story when that lump in your throat comes up.