I want to talk about something, but I’m not really sure how to.
I met a man two years ago when I moved to Maine, and he taught me how to cry again. For a long time, I only cried maybe once a year, if that. I remember us sitting in my living room on opposing couches as I told him about my life, and I cried… a lot. And he was there. He let me feel every emotion exactly as I felt it, whether I was sad, angry, or happy. He saw me feel it all. For the first time in my life, he made me feel like I could just be me. I didn’t have to laugh through everything that hurt or hide my happiness when I felt good. He cheered me on and let me embrace every emotion.
God, I’d never felt so good.
Until I felt very bad and had to learn how to cry without him.
Emotions are hard, to say the least. For most of my life, I kept them locked away in the tightest box I could find. But that’s not really the point of why I’m talking about this.
When I cry in front of a man while sharing personal details about my past, it creates a space of intimacy, especially when they simply sit there, comfort me, and let me feel everything. They remind me that it’s okay to cry—as I am doing now.
Sometimes I think about the men who would just walk away when I cried or yell in my face and tell me to stop. And a special shout-out to the one who just stood there, towering over me after making me cry. They hold a special place in hell.
But anyway, I had never felt safe enough to cry, especially in front of a man. As grateful as I am to have experienced a softer side of how some men respond, I still don’t understand why it makes me want to sleep with them. I know I have my daddy issues, but I hate that the moment I cry in front of a man and he makes me feel safe, I immediately feel the need to sexualize myself or give him a part of me as a thank you—as though some men can’t just be kind.
God, it fucks with my head.
It makes me think I should like them or something. I don’t know. But talking about it makes me realize just how poorly men have treated me throughout my life, and it saddens me.
I guess I’ll just keep crying my way through it until I figure it out.