It was like as soon as I posted the last chapter, I remembered all these memories I've been trying to block! I said that I've never been held as I cry, but that's a lie! I instantly remembered four times that people have held me as I cry, and there are probably more...
The first time was many years ago, when my oldest sister basically announced that she was detaching herself from our family and faith. Three of my friends gathered around me and hugged me. They said nothing - they didn't even interrupt my tears to ask what was wrong - only hugged me and stroked my back and brushed my hair with their fingers. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever, ever experienced.
The second time was a long time later, when I was waiting for the doctors to diagnose my middle sister with an eating disorder. I was at a homeschool group, waiting for my mom and sister to drive in and tell me what was going on. One of my dear friends sat outside with me in the freezing cold (in short sleeves, no less!), holding me and praying over me and singing me songs. She skipped class, just to be there with me! Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. There are no words to describe it...
The third time was when I found out things about my middle sister that I wasn't allowed to tell even one single soul. I was making Valentines with my friends when I broke down and started crying. The friend next to me stopped what she was doing and silently held me, her arms tightly wrapped around me. She didn't even have to ask what was going on. She just loved me.
The fourth time was when I was going through an intense spiritual battle. I was at a camp for girls, and everyone was standing around, singing songs around the campfire. I fled the scene and was finding a place to be alone when I felt someone run up behind me and hug me. We got pizza and soda and sat on a flight of stairs. She hugged me and let me cry and listened to me pour out my heart. She didn't judge...at all.
But I tried to forget those times, all for the sake of becoming emotionless.
And crazy as it is, I confess...
I confess that it was beautiful. The crying and the being loved...beautiful.
But it's been awhile since I last cried in front of anyone. Like, anyone. Ever! And that...that needs to stop.
Because if I'm honest with myself, being able to cry - being able to show any kind of emotion, for that matter - that's a beautiful thing. It's strong and courageous and beautiful. And you know what? I think I'm going to try it again.