IT’S A CRYING SHAME
There’s a time and a place to open the floodgates
Have you burst into floods of tears yet this week? Dissolved into a sobbing mess? Or at the very least been weeping uncontrollably? Preferably in public. And preferably in the company of men.
No? Well, I hate to break it to you but you’re getting this girl thing all wrong. Because being constantly tearful for no apparent reason is what it’s all about these days.
High Priestess of this trend is the Duchess of Sussex in her Netflix fly-onthe-wall series, though you could take your pick from a depressing number of well-known females. Morning-telly types seem particularly partial to sobbing live on air. Holly Willoughby was reportedly crying over the fuss about her and Phillip Schofield ‘jumping’ the queue to see the Queen lying in state. Various Loose Women often have loose tear ducts, while reality-tv stars start blubbing at the mere snap of a false fingernail.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with crying per se – it’s a fantastic release of stress hormones and for way too long shedding tears in public has been frowned on.
When we were kids, turning on the waterworks used to have either Mum or Dad (them again!) uttering that immortal phrase, ‘If you don’t stop, I’ll give you something to cry about.’
And perish the thought that a mere female trying to carve out a career on national newspapers resorted to tears in front of the sexist blokes she had to work with. Never did. Never would. For women in my generation, bursting into tears just reinforced every stereotypical opinion men had of you. Not saying any of this is right – it’s probably not. But if there is one curious thing I have noticed about those given to dramatic public tears and those who’d rather stick pins in their eyes (and even then, those eyes wouldn’t water!), it’s this: the more a person (male or female) has to cry about, the less they actually do so.
‘WALLOWING DOES NOT MAKE YOU A WARRIOR’
Think about women like the late, remarkable Dame Deborah James - or Bowel Babe, as she brilliantly called herself. If ever anyone had good reason to have a good old sob, it was her. Diagnosed with incurable bowel cancer in her 30s, with two young kids.
No one would have blamed her for feeling sorry for herself. But she didn’t, did she? She rolled up her sleeves, painted on a beautiful smile and went on to be a total inspiration to millions. Of course she cried. We all cry. We’re human. But it was Deborah’s cheeky grin and eyes shining with determination we remember her for. She turned a huge negative into an amazing positive. (See more about how Deborah inspired a nation on p31.)
Over the years, I’ve been honoured to meet many brave women like Deborah. Rape survivors; those who were abused as children; females fighting for their rights and lives in war zones; women forced into prostitution by poverty; victims of domestic violence; drug and alcohol abuse recoverers; those facing terminal illness.
None wallowed in self pity. Tears were few and far between. They were fierce. They were Amazons.
Witness now the incredibly courageous women and girls of Iran and Afghanistan. Do we see them crying over their lot? The fact they could be beaten to death for not covering their hair? No. Because wallowing is not winning. It does not make you the warrior all women have the potential to be.
There are always ways to get what you want, to defeat your enemies. And it’s never, ever playing the victim card.
Evidently, women will cry 4,680 times over their adult lifetime – more than twice as much as men. That’s six times a month.
Maybe Mum and Dad were right all those years ago. Crying crocodile tears is like crying ‘wolf’ (sorry about the mixed animal metaphors). Because when those tears are from real pain and suffering, crying is never a game.