01/19/18

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I am a very emotional person. I cry when I see something heartwarming, when i’m sad, when im happy, even when I laugh too hard.

 

I wasn’t always like this, though.

 

I went through a phase in high school that I refer to as my “cold ass bitch phase.” The defining features of that phase? Feeling nothing. Not acknowledging the existence of my emotions. Not expressing any emotions. 

 

During my senior year, I endured so much pain that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. I stuffed it down for as long as I could. Any time I cried, I tried to hide it. I’d cry in the bathroom at school, in the shower, in my car, or in my bed at night. I didn’t want anybody to see the toll this was all taking on me. 

 

I started wearing my hair in a slicked-back ponytail with a middle part every day. It made me feel powerful. I would wear shoes with a little heel so that people would hear me coming. I wore a full face of makeup every day to hide the fact that night terrors kept me up all night, which gave me dark bags under my eyes.

 

I was like a volcano. All my emotions at the bottom, angrily boiling and trying to fight their way out. To be seen. To be heard. To take up space in the world. 

 

I erupted, and it was not pretty. I was almost hospitalized.

 

Fast forward to my sophomore year of college. My grandma was diagnosed with cancer and was deteriorating quickly. I had put in a lot of work to learn how to deal with my emotions appropriately, but I could feel myself crossing the boundary back into my cold ass bitch phase. 

 

I knew I couldn’t do this again. So, I walked into Clare’s room sobbing. She hugged me and didn’t let go until I was okay.  After thirty minutes of taking deep breaths while she held me, I was ready to talk. She listened to me, validated my emotions, and asked me what else I needed from her.

 

I used to spend so much time trying to avoid my feelings. Hell, I was so proud of myself for making it through a day without crying. But, that’s bullshit. I refuse to live like that anymore.

 

I don’t put pressure on myself anymore to express my feelings “appropriately.” If I want to cry in the frozen food aisle of trader joe’s, then I do. If I want to laugh hysterically with my friends in the middle of a restaurant, then I do. If I want to kiss my boyfriend in the middle of the sidewalk because he said something that made my day, then I do.

I don’t live according to other people’s rules anymore.

 

My feelings are valid, and there is no right or wrong way to express them. 

 

*she writes as she eats ice cream right from the carton, tearing up because soon she’ll be a second semester senior*