Last Thursday was a tough day. It was one of those days when all I felt like doing was crying. Crying because my body hurt. Crying for the sad little girl who lost her grandmother. Crying for the sweetness and struggles of the Special Needs children I see every day. Crying over a break-up song on the radio. Crying because my refrigerator is broken. Crying because I have to get up at 5:30 and can’t sleep. Crying because I want to go back to college. Crying because…because.
The urge to cry started early–at about 7:15 in the morning and I came dangerously close to surrendering several times throughout the day. Of course, I stifled. Crying at work would bring questions from fellow employees, crying in the car would bring questions from the kids, and crying at home would bring questions from the DH. The pressure was building all day and the worst case scenario was a real possibility–breaking down in the middle of a conversation, inconsolable and covered in tears and snot, while my family watches in horror and I feel like an idiot.
Then, sweet relief.
I went to the movies and saw “The Help.” I cried. And cried. Then cried again. And it was okay because everyone in the theater was sniffling. It’s one of those movies. If you see it and you don’t cry or at least tear up a little, you may want to check if you still have a soul.
After crying a little, I felt better. I thought I’d gotten it all out. Then I got in my car to go home. It wasn’t 3 minutes before I was bawling my eyes out.
It’s been a long time since a movie has had that effect on me. “The Help” may have surpassed “Pride and Prejudice” as my favorite movie ever. Certainly, crying over movies is not new to me, but never have the reasons been so substantial. While I cried like a crazy person, I ran the gamut of emotions.
- Anger–I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but if I met someone like Hilly Holbrook I have no doubts that I would punch her in the face.
- Pity–For the people who blindly follow people like Hilly, who feel inferior because of people like Hilly, or who are like Hilly.
- Respect–For people who do what is right, no matter the consequences. For people who swallow their pride and their complaints and do the work because it’s what they have to do to survive, but never lose sight of their worth as a person and a child of God. For people who know when it’s time to stand up even if getting knocked down is sure to follow.
- Jealousy –For the people who do the above. For Katheryn Stockett who wrote a great book. For the writers, producers, and the director who made an even better movie (in my opinion.) For everyone who knows what they want and go and get it.
- Resolve–To get my stuff together. To decide what it is I want to do and do it. To write and to share it, without fear of criticism or rejection. To be happy in my own skin.
I guess the crying went on for about 10-15 minutes before I pulled myself together and went through the drive-thru at McDonald’s and got a large Mocha. The perfect ending to a good cry, I must say.
As is usual after a good cry, I felt better. I do this more than I care to admit. This time was a little different. I felt inspired instead of simply relieved. In other words, it wasn’t a pity party. It was a purging. As is also usual with me, I had to ruminate a while on the meaning of it all. Would the resolve go away? Turns out, no. Come Sunday night, it was still there and I wrote the “Momfog Manifesto.”
Getting my stuff together? Check. Deciding what I want to do? Check. Doing it? Check. Without fear of criticism or rejection?
Well, let’s just say it’s a work in progress.