I’m a day late on the deadline to this one . . .
I don’t know when I developped the knack for it. I do know that as a child and a tomboy I decided that crying was for wimps and I began to bury emotions beneath the surface. Most of my memories of childhood are happy, rosey golden ones. I know that my childhood wasn’t perfect, but it was far better than most of my friends and I loved my childhood. I burried sad memories with my desire to cry. (I don’t mind the burrying of sad memories, I think it is important to move on, but along with some of those memories I burried the ability to show more emotion than just happiness.) Maybe I had experienced just enough hurt to not want to face it, maybe I was trying to be tough, I’ll never really know. I remember in college wishing that I could “feel ” more and I worked on it some. But it hurt – a lot. So I reburried emotion and continued on my life. But, once you excavate something and try to reburry it, often you don’t do as good as a job. My feelings were a little easier to tap into, a little easier access. I started showing more than one feeling without my even knowing it. (I was the always with a smile on her face girl.)
Paul was the one who taught me how to cry, really cry and to really feel. I remember after my Grammy died and I couldn’t go to her funeral that I was trying to assure him that I was fine, everything was fine. He looked at me odd and knew what my true feelings below the surface were, but I couldn’t cry or show my emotion in front of people, even him, and tears slipped quietly down my face while we were sleeping. He knew.
I have since become a watering pot, or at least I feel like it sometimes, with him. I still work on not burying all my emotions below the surface, but I still have a hard time letting hurt and pain and fear show. Though sometimes, I wish I could have the always happy girl back, but that just doesn’t work in parenthood. heh 🙂