Why do we cry?

I’ve thought a lot about crying since working as a therapist. About what is actually happening when we cry, from the single silent tear through to uncontrollable full body-wracking sobs. I believe that something powerful is happening. That when we cry, we are connecting deeply with our truth about something, through our emotions. That we are acknowledging what something truly means to us, personally. We acknowledge how we may be feeling lost, hopeless, abandoned, rejected, alone, frightened, hated, humiliated and many, many other states of suffering or experience. It’s hard to fathom how such huge and intense feelings have such small words to describe them.  

This emotional truth information is crucial, as it sheds light on what it means to be human. Meaningful truths about the human experience have always been a rich source of creativity. Beautiful things are woven from our threads of pain, anger, yearning, loss and love. Books, poems and songs are written about them. Art, dance, theatre, opera, movies and TV shows are crafted from them. All from this emotional connection to our truths. So powerful is this experience that it can overwhelm us, rendering us temporarily incapable of doing anything else as we sit and engage with our intense emotional response. It takes time and focus to navigate our way from acknowledgement to understanding, acceptance and meaning making. A process we can all too easily resist and deny, in the effort to maintain our everyday functioning.

Although we may enjoy stories about the human condition, we show a reluctance to revealing our own emotional truths, especially through crying. Yet crying is understood to be cathartic, as we can often feel better after “letting it all out” in “a good cry”. So why do we tend to resist it? I often hear clients telling me they don’t want to cry, or don’t like crying in front of others. I can remember rapidly walking away from workmates to cry privately in the toilets as my feelings overwhelmed me. As we become adults, it becomes more challenging to show our vulnerability to others. I imagine we learn this from a society which generally disapproves of crying, judging it as immature, weak and inconvenient. Hence the maxims "Boys don't cry", "Big girls don't cry" and "No need to cry”. These align with a society which values external appearances including power, strength and functionality.

Only we know how it feels to be us. In that we are alone. But we don’t have to be. I think an important clue about the function of crying is the visible and sometimes audible aspects, alerting others to our vulnerable state. Crying is an alarm, signalling to others the fact of our suffering and our need for comfort. So important is this function, it is innate from birth. Seeing others’ cry elicits our tenderness and compassion. Empathy is central to responding to the needs of others, to help alleviate suffering and to provide support. We can show they are not alone, that someone cares. Unfortunately, society’s stigma around crying means the sufferer is hit with “two arrows” (a Buddhist teaching): one from the source of the pain itself, compounded by the shame of being observed crying. Our tender response to crying can help to alleviate the second arrow. I know that just seeing the concern in a friend or colleague’s face has tipped me over the edge into releasing my tears. I imagine their show of compassion helped me to feel safe enough to cry in front of them.  

Our society accepts the need for help without question in matters of physical pain. I believe the same should hold true with emotional pain and suffering. I welcome tears. They are a sign the person is engaging with their pain and is perhaps ready for help while processing it. This is where we can step up and lean in, to support and bear witness to emotional pain. No training is required other than our genuine concern and instinct for compassion. The person crying doesn’t need to be told what to do. They are already doing it.