Personal Narrative - I Don’t Want to Cry

I Don’t Want to Cry

Tonight, I punched a child in the stomach. He gasped for air, his face grew red, and his eyes got watery. Granted, we were at Karate class and we were sparring. And, granted, I was 19 and he was likely 10. I hadn’t meant to hurt him; I had actually been “going light.” But I hurt him. The fact is, he knew it and didn’t care. He could have continued the night without a single tear. But when the Shihan came to try and make him feel better, the boy’s face got redder and his lip quivered as that single tear rolled down his cheek. The boy was perfectly fine until he was consoled.

When I was younger, I wasn’t the most popular. I was known as a bookworm who frequently dazed off in class, all the while being admired by the teachers for my intelligence. I was short, wore glasses, didn’t talk much, and only had 2 friends in my grade. I was, expectedly, picked on by the bigger kids. I was hurt several times. However, I hid it from my teachers and parents. I didn’t want to cry. And I was fine without crying; I merely accepted the beating and went on, trying to avoid or get back at the bullies.

Girls are taught at an early age that they can cry. The sight of a girl with tears running down her cheeks inspires compassion, while a boy’s tears bring mostly embarrassment. Girls are also ingrained with the fact that females are “there for each other,” and can therefore support one another emotionally. Women frequently talk of how refreshed a “good cry” is, as if it were a long bath or a cigarette. But guys don’t cry. Pop psychology tells us that this is because men see crying as negative. Because we can’t accept our feelings and are scared at the expression of them. So this boy was too scared to cry until the instructor let him know it was OK? Hogwash. A Karate instructor, like a coach, wants to keep little boys from crying whenever possible.

It isn’t fair that a man’s dislike of being forced to cry makes others think he is “all bottled up inside.