Cry Me A River: Confessions of an Easy Weeper

If you know me at all, whether it's in real life, or just from hanging out here, you know I am a weeper. A crier. I CRY. At the drop of a hat.

I cry happy tears, sad tears, joyous tears, frustrated tears, relieved tears. You name a tear, and I've cried it. I have spent countless midnight Christmas Eve church services hiding behind a program because the songs move me so deeply that I start sobbing, like deep hitching sobs. While sitting in a pew. With other people.

I cry over songs on the radio. My kids insist on listening to our local "cool" station, KDWB in the car. Therefore, I know all the lyrics to, and sing along with, a plethora of angsty feels songs that are so not directed towards women my age. I sing along to "Say Something" by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera and when they get to the line, "And I am feeling so small...It was over my head...I know nothing at all" the signs on the road get all blurry due to the excess water in my eyes.

The commercial about the Olympic athletes and their moms? TORTURE. I picture me and every one of my non-athletic kids, and I think my tears are a combination of guilt over not having more Sports Kids and and sappy relief over the fact that I made some pretty good memories with them while we figured out that they weren't future Olympians. Molly was signed up for t-ball when she was about 4. She hit the ball, and started running. First base! Going for second! Rounding to third..and kept on running, straight to me and the blanket I was sitting on along the third base line. Her first and last t-ball game and we laugh about it to this day. Sniffle.

The song "Fix You" by Coldplay is a trigger. I need some time alone after hearing that one. Time alone with a towel to mop up the mess running down my face.

Tell me your birth story and I'll show you my ugly cry face. Tell me your adoption story and it's even uglier. At the last hockey tournament this year, I sat in the hotel lobby sharing wine and baby stories with a few other hockey moms. The "standard" birth tales got me in the gut, but when one mom regaled us with not only the story of her son's adoption but about his life leading up to the adoption? Gah. I blamed my uncontrolled blubbering on the wine.

I've banned myself from ever watching The Learning Channel's "A Baby Story" in the best interests of everyone, everywhere.

This facebook page is a no-no if I'm out in public. Or if I am wearing any eye makeup.

One of the biggest downfalls of being an EW (easy weeper) is being blindsided by an attack of the tears. Case in point, the following conversation I had at the dentist office just this past week:

Cathy, the receptionist: "Jenny, that William sure is a nice boy."
Me: "Oh thank you. He really is a sweet kid."
Cathy: "All of your kids are so polite and kind. You've done a really good job with them. You wouldn't believe some of the behavior we see in here."
Me: "Thank you! I don't know if it's because of me, though. They were pretty awesome right from the start."
Cathy: "You're a single mom, right?"
Me: "Yep."
Cathy: "Wow. Four kids? How long have you been doing this on your own?"
Me: "Hmm...it's been about 7 years now."
Cathy: "Do they spend much time with dad?"
Me: "They used to spend every other weekend with him. And a couple weeknights. But that hasn't happened for at least 4 years. He helps with rides sometimes. And they hung out with him at Christmas for a few hours."
Cathy, shaking her head, "Well, I want you to know that you're doing a really great job with your kids."
Me: "Oh my God. I'm sorry...can I get some tissues?"

I was full-on crying. In the waiting room of our dental office. Luckily the only other person waiting was an elderly gentleman who was polite enough to just smile into the copy of National Geographic he was reading.

When the kids at school hold my face in their hands and say "I love you, Miss Jenny" I oftentimes get something in my eye that requires immediate attention. Same goes when I feel a tiny hand spontaneously grab mine as we're walking down the hall. Or when I watch one of them figuring out how to write a certain letter, or sound out a word in a book. Excuse me for a sec, I can't type anymore. I'll be right back....

When I think about Molly leaving for school this fall I break down. When I look at pictures of the kids, random snapshots of them doing random things (the car wash in the driveway, with the Little Tikes cars and wagons all lined up, little Charlie and little Molly standing there, all serious and soapy? OOOOMMMMGGGG.

The passage of time leaves me verklempt. Thoughts of the future, so exciting and scary, does it too. Pretty much every video featuring dogs and/or babies and/or soldiers returning home is like a shot in the heart.


I used to be embarrassed about this affliction, this inability to hold my emotions at bay until a later moment, a more private moment. It made me feel flawed and weak. But then someone said something to me, and it made me feel better.

"You cry really easily, don't you?" she said, with a kind smile on her face. Go figure, at the time, I was dabbing at some tears.

I smiled back and said something like, "Yes! I can't help it. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry" she said. "It's a really endearing quality. You don't hide your feelings like a lot of people do."

And you know what? She has a point. Our world seems to be growing colder and meaner and more impersonal every day. Maybe being an Easy Weeper really is an okay thing. A good thing, even.

I know there are more Easy Weepers out there. I've met some of you, and the solidarity one feels when wiping tears away with friends is all kinds of empowering. Moving, even.

So for those of you who have a good cry at the ready 24/7, be proud. Embrace your sensitive selves, and know you're in good company.

P.S. Make sure you have Kleenex in your purse at all times. Trust me.


  1. Reed makes fun of me for being an EW. I didn't used to be, but as I have aged it has gotten exponentially worse.

    Kenny Loggins Pooh song? Oh dear GOD get me a bucket

    Fix You? I need a tranquilizer

    Arthur's Perfect Christmas when Buster sings Baxter Day for his single mom stressed out about Christmas? cue the weeping, which starts back immediately when Muffy sings about missing Francine.

    I'm a nut case.

    1. I couldn't love you more. Is it weird that I think of you when I hear Coldplay? I think we ruminated over their weepy songs on the old chatboard a billion years ago.

      And now I'm off to Google Baxter Day. Ready to cry!

    2. OK but here's the setup. Buster's mom tries to make Christmas perfect because Big Daddy left them, I mean they got divorced. And she gets so stressed out she wakes him up early every morning the week before Christmas with burnt pancakes. And so his friends tell him to make up his own holiday.

  2. Sometimes I wish I was an easy weeper. Really! I'm sort of the polar opposite where people are like, "Why aren't you crying?"

    1. There are advantages to being a non-weeper, Nina. For instance, I bet you've never dissolved into a puddle during a parent/teacher conference? Gah. I still do it, even with the high schoolers.

      Thank you for reading!

  3. On the flip side of this, there are people who can be EW and take it to a negative level where it incapacitates frequently. Thank Yahweh for my pharms.

    1. Absolutely. I try to make sure my weeping is balanced between genuinely sad crying (which happens, but not nearly as often as it used to) and the happy/relieved/love crying. No doubt I was buried in the sad stuff for a while (the months immediately following Big Daddy leaving) but I dug myself out of it. With the help of some short-term use of antidepressants.

  4. Believe it or not, I too am an EW. Seriously. The time I cry that pisses me off the most is confrontation. When I'm supposed to be all mad about something, I usually just end up bawling. I hate that. When I recently put in my two weeks notice at the job I hated, it took everything in my power not to cry when I sat the boss down and aired my grievances. Instead, my face just got all beet red and hot.
    I also am known to cry with happiness. To quote a line from Steel Magnolias, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!"

    1. Gurlll...I sat next to you in the theater watching "Flight". I know your tear ducts work well ;)

      I feel ya on the confrontational tears. That happens to me too. Big feelings!

  5. Totally unrelated. I started subscribing to XM radio. There's a Comedy Central channel. Louis CK came on today. I laughed my a$$ off!! I can see why you like him. :-) Anyway, I am an easy crier too. Especially when it's "that time". Sometimes I cry and I'm not even sure why. You're not alone. And I agree with the dentist office, you sound like such an awesome mom! :-)

    1. Ahhhh! My lovah. He's so funny, isn't he?

      HA! Dear God. I didn't even touch upon PMS weeping. That's almost too much to think about. I start to cry if someone doesn't answer a text within 5 minutes while I'm PMSing.

      Thank you for your kind words, and for the reminder about Louis CK. Glad you enjoyed him :)

  6. I'm an Easy Weeper. My biggest triggers are saying goodbye to people (like, "moving away" or "going back to California after a long visit" goodbyes, not just "see you after work" goodbyes) and any story, poem, show, book, etc, that depicts an animal being hurt, lost or dying.

    1. Goodbyes ARE hard! And yes, ditto about the animals. I can't bear to watch any of the peta videos. Ever.

      Thank you for reading, Angel!

  7. Teary eyed right now! I had a "crying during job interviews" problem when I started looking for a full time job after my husband left me. Any mention of my preschool job and why I was leaving it or what I loved about it dissolved me in an instant.

    1. HA! Oh my stars. I know exactly what you're talking about. Getting ready to begin the interview process all freaking over again. I hope I'm over it ;) Thank you so much for reading.

  8. Ha, so did you see the ad during the Olympics where the soldier comes home and surprises his family in the group photo? His mom goes nuts, and I cried all 4,721 times they ran it. I like to cry. It makes me feel alive. It makes me FEEL. So that's good. Plus, if you stuff it back in, you drown in unshed tears.

  9. It all started for me with Little House and the Prairie...I mean, come on, Mary losing her sight?! I am an easy weeper and appreciate this post so much...we feel things really deeply and need to let it out...it doesn't mean we are cry babies :).

  10. Hello. My name is Donna Lee and I am an easy weeper.....I feel like it's a confession.

    I was watching one of those "people who do stupid things and hurt themselves while their so-called friends stand around and laugh" shows and I started crying. I had to leave the room.

    Hallmark, Kleenex and many others. They aim straight for my heart and hit it every time.

  11. Jenny - I, too, am an EW. I'm a little damp eyed right now from reading your post, in fact. I typically cry about something at least twice a day, most recently it was Macklemore's "Same Love" playing on the radio. I try not to be embarrassed about it - but I know it makes me look like a basket case occasionally. Whatevs.

    As an aside - can I just tell you how much I love you? I don't get to check in with your blog every day or even every week. But once or twice a month when I have a little time I come here and scroll down and read from right where I left off and it's one of the happiest times for me. Thank you so much for writing. <3

  12. Me too. All of it! I love me, my emotions and tears. Wouldn't have it any other way....


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...