The Truth Is That Male Tears Could Save Us

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I write about love for a living. As a man.

When I explain this to people, I get a mix of reactions, ranging from confusion to even condescension. Some people think it’s below them, as if writing about love is a shameful activity. I used to wonder if there was something inherently wrong with this passion-turned-profession of mine.

This same kind of shame arises whenever a lump starts to build in my throat, begging me to cry. I’m a man and I admit that there is something eerily shameful about letting go and crying. In our world of chaos, war, and pain, we turn to anger as methods of coping with our deteriorating planet rather than looking inside our hearts.

Trying to cry fails when you’re armed with so much anger ready to spew out of your pores at any moment. Our modern generation seems to be a bit more accepting of crying in some ways, but we’re becoming so desensitized to so many emotions that this increased acceptance is more of a pretend acceptance we say we feel.

In our world of chaos, war, and pain, we turn to anger as methods of coping with our deteriorating planet rather than looking inside our hearts.

We walk around pretending to feel certain emotions (i.e. accepting men who cry, accepting all gender identities, speaking in a politically correct manner) that we don’t even examine or know if we feel. The act of trying to project a certain image to society and our peers is the heart of what the desensitization movement of our times is filled with.

We don’t even have to make sense anymore. We can go post on random social media sites, rambling about anything we want. We can order anything we want online, hide in our homes, and refuse to live.

As a man, there is nothing more moving to me than love, love in its purest form. My entire life is dedicated to helping heal the hearts of women everywhere who feel confused, frustrated, and lost in a world of endless disappointments. All I want to say is this: you are going to be okay.

I wish I could conclude this with some kind of poetic irony of how I am crying in a tearful reflective state as I conclude with some insightful piece of wisdom, but the truth is I don’t have a new insight to add. The only real insight I do have is that life is too short to not let yourself go: give into your feelings, fears and sacrifice your armor for tears and vulnerability. And always remember: laugh at yourself. Never take life too seriously.