Wimps Don't Cry...

What is it with guys that it's not ok to cry? That it's not "manly" to show emotion of any kind, lest you be thought of as a weakling or a cry baby?

I grew up with brothers and boy cousins, so I think I can speak to the fact that "wimps don't cry". Being a girl or more like a Tomboy, I had issues with this over the years. To be part of the gang, not like today's gang but more like the Little Rascals, I had to be faster and better at things than the littlest or worse boy just to be able to hang. That meant that I had to be able to climb a tree faster, run without shoes, shoot the slingshot with better accuracy and more than not, deal with a little blood, sweat and no tears.

I cried so much to my dismay, into my bed covers when I was younger because of my ADHD and my Mother's inability to love me for the way I was. I eventually told God that I didn't want to cry or complain about my poor excuse of a life anymore and so I stopped crying for a number of years. It was as if I could just shut it off from myself so that it wouldn't happen and somehow people and events couldn't make me cry.

As a young woman, I felt it wrong to use tears to manipulate men into doing something I wanted them to do. Heck, if they didn't want to do it, I was able to find someone who would. No big deal when you are single, skinny and athletic.

Now I find that there are times when I wish I could pour on the tears as I think that would make my spouse feel like I was more of woman and therefore make him feel more like a man? But it's just not me as I feel as though it would be a manipulation of sorts to get him to feel something for me that he may not otherwise feel.

In fact, I did cry over my broken arm! Not when I fell, not when it hurt, not even after surgery. I had to explain to the doctors that I was brought up with the "Wimps Don't Cry" motto as they too looked at me like I was nuts! I guess by their expressions after looking at the x-rays that I should have been crying constantly by the amount of pain I should have been in... But it took me 3 years and a trip to England and Ireland for me to cry over the death of my Mother. But if I watch something sentimental on TV or in a movie or see old people, kids or animals being hurt I'm a blubbering idiot...well not exactly, but I do cry, once in a while now.

I wonder why my opinion of myself has led me to believe that others would think less of me if I was to cry? What does it feel like to be a wimp? And why is being sentimental and overly sensitive a wrong thing in today's society? Or is that opinion just saved for the male species?

I've lived my life making a place for myself. I've lived my life never turning back and saying I wish I didn't do this or that. I've lived my life looking forward to the next thrill and yet I can't cry... Does that make me a wimp then? Not being able to do something that I want to do very badly? or is it that all of my tears are saved for others and not myself? Or is it that I just don't know what feelings to have when I need them? Is this what an ADHD Fog is like?

Should I be sad over something that isn't sad to me but to others? Should I react the way others expect me to react or the way I would have reacted if no one was around? How many little girls would cry if they had no audience? How many little boys would if they didn't?

What makes us decide when to please others and when not to? Why is it so important to fit in and be what others want or expect us to be? And why then are we not allowed to expect others to act in the way that we think they should or would? Why do others cry when they should rejoice and why don't I see the reasons why we should cry at all?

All tears have done for me is give me a headache and a runny nose. And yet, it's the way that the Holy Spirit shows me that I am being filled. No runny nose and no headache... but why choose tears? Is it because I have forgotten how the cleansing of tears wash away the dirt and grime of the past? or is it evidence that the Hold Spirit is with me, doing something that I can not do on my own?

So as I continue to ponder why Wimps Don't Cry, let me know what makes you cry. Clue me in as to why such a simple act as letting go of some water from your eyes has the ability to stop men in their tracks to ask if they can do something to help you... is it out of chivalry, out of wonder, or just because it's something so foreign to a man that they have to stop and see for themselves what it was that caused this emotional response? And do you think I could learn this manipulation trick in my old age or would it be pointless...

When do you know to give up?

I think for most people, a few days, a few times, but definitely when you feel like you've been left behind... but what happens when God tells you not to give up but trust in Him?

The ingredients of a cake alone, are all but gross. But put them together and you have a wonderful tasting dessert that makes the mouth water... that is if you put the ingredients in properly and cook it for enough time at the right heat.

So how do you know what the right amount of time is? Usually a cake cooks at about 325-350 degrees, depending if you are in the mountains or so far above sea level... but how do you determine time? Using a tooth pick seems to be the given way to determine if you've cooked it long enough... if the tooth pick comes out clean it's done... but it doesn't work that way with brownies.... you have to go by what it looks like on the edges instead... and what about bread? or a souffle?

Mom's bangers and mash was all about how it smelled, and the same goes for most baked dishes. But with meat, you have to be careful. Too high a heat and it gets too cooked on the edges and can be raw in the middle...

That's what my marriage was like. Cooked on the edges and raw in the middle. I must have had the heat turned up too high and not let it simmer in it's own juices... One of the best recipes for meat loaf, pun intended, is to cook it low and long... Hmmm.... interesting how we can take a look at our food, how we make it and apply it to marriage.

How many of you cook with wine? Brandy? The flame, it's all about the flame. But it only cooks off the alcohol and then what do you have left? The taste I suppose, but why do you need to put it on fire? What type of challenge makes us want to do that? Is it the colors of it, the danger of it, or just because it's cool? And if we didn't set it on fire, what would happen to the alcohol? Would it burn out eventually and would the taste be the same? Or is the burnt crust that we are looking for?

Me, my Mom burnt everything... I wonder why when she had 3 hooliguns to keep up with all the while trying to make us dinner.... we never showed up on time and was late most of the time... so is it her fault that we took longer to get there and there fore her dinner was over cooked? We were so hungry that we didn't even seem to notice. We just ate it thinking it was supposed to be this way. Oh if we had only known how much effort went into following the recipe just so... we ruined many a dinner for our Mom and never realized that we added to her lack of self esteem. How could she have one when she was always burning dinner? Proper planning works great when you have people ready to eat, but if you have to round them up after it's done, well it's just poor performance on our part now isn't it....

Then there are the delicate desserts... very pretty, very appealing and what did we do? We'd sneak by and put our fingers in it.... no wonder tupperware came out with lids for the jellow molds. It wasn't because of the film on the top that would settle on it in the fridge, it was the poking of our finger tips to see how bouncy it was... sorta like poking someone when they aren't quite awake... yes pun intended here as well... I mean how can you get any positive result when you aren't even ready yet?

Then there's the layered dishes... pefectly timed so that the custard in the middle wouldn't sink to the bottom of the jello portion and then the whipped topping, so fluffy and full that if you put it on too soon, it would melt or so it appeared that way as the air all fell out of it. And what about those souffles? How on earth could you possibly have it not sink when there was so much stomping and slamming going on in the house? How could anything stay up in an environment like that?


So now that the baking is over, the cook has retired and the masses are still hungry for food, I wait until the strike is over in hopes that I'll get some brownies out of it eventually. I can't afford to give up so maybe it's time I learn how to cook for myself?

Is it a guy thing?

What is it about men and women? Why must we battle for control when it's not really control that we are after, but instead understanding and unconditional love?

Why do women get pegged as the emotional ones, yet it's the man who blows up verbally at the first sign of conflict with his beliefs?

Why is it that women must be the ones to back down to keep the argument from escalating and be the first one to apologize and forgive for love to return?

Can a women really affect a man and change him into a frog when he used to be a prince?

Is figuring out, being smarter to avoid confrontation, really a tool of manipulation? And if it is, then why didn't they figure it out like we did to begin with?

Are women really stronger, smarter and more capable of living in this world than men? And if so, then why do men still run it?

I wonder, ponder more than anything as there probably isn't really an answer, as to why there has to be conflict to begin with. Why can't we agree to disagree without getting angry or taking things personal? Why can't we comprehend that everyone has a different point of view and respect that fact? Why can't we find compromise instead of determining that you are wrong and I am right?

How does a woman actually break a man, when it's he that has already broken her? How does someone stick up for themselves after verbally being beaten down, without being accused of lying or saying untruths?

Why is it out of spite that you prove them wrong, and out of spite when you prove them right? How do you then do what is right and without spite?

How do you determine what is intentional in the mind of others, when it's your perspective that determines the decision?

How can one person decide what the other is feeling, when the person tells them that they are not feeling that way, but then begins to feel that way because they have been told all day that that's how they are feeling?

If I'm angry, I'll tell you I'm angry. Don't tell me I'm angry all day and then act surprised when I blow up at you after I get angry about you telling me I'm angry when I wasn't... makes sense to me...

So if we are all parts in a play of life, the queen of hearts, the jack of spades and the black horseman, who is who and when are they those pieces of the game?

What determines a persons ability to determine others feelings when they are incapable of recognizing their own? And what right does anyone have to push their feelings upon others and then get upset when it's unwanted?

How does a man think he can tell a women what to do, how to do it, what to feel, how to feel, what to say, what not to say, and how to think and what to think when he is not a woman?

Lost within my mind of wonder, pondering what it means to be loved and accepted for who and what I am... does he not see my heart or is he blinded by his own anger and resentment that he does not even consider that I'm capable of forgiveness regardless of the crime?