You know the drill: something hits you right in the feels—a sad song, a frustrating day, an emotional reel of a dog reunion—and suddenly your eyes are leaking like a busted faucet. And then? That familiar wave of shame or the reflexive “sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying” kicks in. But let’s just pause there and ask… why are we apologizing for having a fully functional nervous system?

Crying is not a sign of weakness. It’s not something to be fixed. It’s actually one of your body’s most genius (and misunderstood) emotional release valves. I used to be someone who didn’t cry. Not because I never felt anything (oh, I felt plenty), but because tears? Nope. They just didn’t happen. At best, I’d get misty-eyed during a dramatic movie and then immediately swallow it down with a “no big deal.” Crying, to me, felt like something to avoid—messy, unnecessary, maybe even weak.

Then I joined Breekjaar—a personal development program that gently (read: emotionally steamrolled me in the best way) cracked me open. Somewhere between the journaling sessions, emotional deep-dives, and sitting in circles talking about real-life feelings with real-life humans, something shifted. Suddenly, crying wasn’t embarrassing—it was just… honest.

My coach there used to say, “Tears are like the washing machine of the soul.” And honestly? I’ve never heard a better metaphor. Once I gave myself permission to feel fully, those tears came often and without apology. Frustration tears. Happy tears. “I don’t even know why I’m crying” tears. It became less about breakdowns and more about breakthroughs.

Tears are your body’s built-in therapy

When you cry, your body isn’t just throwing a dramatic tantrum—it’s doing science. Emotional tears (as opposed to the ones from chopping onions) contain stress hormones. That means crying is literally your body’s way of wringing out emotional tension (see? The washing machine of the soul). You’re not falling apart—you’re cleansing.

Just like sweat helps cool you down, tears help you regulate. They tell your nervous system, “Hey, we’re overwhelmed. Let’s release some of this.” No wonder you often feel lighter, calmer, and weirdly clearer after a good cry.

We need to stop calling it “too much”

Whether you cry once a month or once before breakfast, it’s normal. Seriously. The idea that crying is something to be ashamed of? That’s old-school conditioning wrapped in toxic emotional repression. We’ve been taught to bottle it up, “keep it together,” or only cry behind closed doors.

But crying is not a flaw—it’s flushing out the funk. When you suppress emotions, they don’t magically disappear. They just go underground, where they can quietly turn into anxiety, resentment, chronic tension, or full-on emotional constipation. That doesn’t sound great, does it?

Sometimes, your mouth can’t say what your heart is holding. That’s where tears come in. They communicate pain, grief, overwhelm, even joy. Crying connects us—not just to ourselves, but to others. It says, “This matters to me.” “I’m hurting.” Or sometimes, simply, “I care.” And witnessing someone else cry? That’s an invitation to respond with empathy, not judgment. It’s a moment of human truth in a world full of filters and forced smiles.

Final thoughts: let it flow

Tears aren’t a problem to solve—they’re a message to receive. They show up when your nervous system needs a pressure release, when your heart is too full, or when your soul just needs a moment to exhale. And the more we normalize crying, the less alone we feel in our humanness.

So next time the tears start to rise—whether it’s from a sad song, a kind word, or a long day—don’t rush to shut them down. Take a breath. Let them fall. Trust that your body knows what it’s doing.

You’re not falling apart. You’re letting go. And that, my friend, is strength.

When was the last time you let yourself really cry—and what would happen if you stopped trying to hold it all in? 💧