When I was 13 I decided not to cry and I didn’t again for 3 years. With a twisted emo sad-clown logic, I wanted to be like boys. I wanted to have control over myself. I didn’t want anyone to see how much they upset me. I discovered the power in stoicism, the unspoken authority you are afforded when you seem impenetrable, like nothing gets to you.
I thought if I didn’t let any emotion out I could prevent any emotion from getting in. And in a way, it worked. I was numb, like a window, looking through. But it didn’t work. Feelings still festered underneath: when I rediscovered crying again, I realised I’d been denying myself an important outlet.
Boys will be boys but boys don’t cry. I want to think about what we do to men when we tell them it’s not okay to cry. If crying IS a product of a healthy emotional state, then what are these men missing and missing out on?
That’s when I decided: I want to make grown men weep. I want them to feel what it’s like to uncork the bottle and experience the intense burden of the bottle’s weight being lifted, I want them to feel the strength in vulnerability, the power in submitting to being out of control. I want them to feel the wild abandon of confronting the feeling head on, I want them to experience their bodies levelling out and tempering off.
I want them to access that joy and relief and catharsis that they haven’t always been allowed access to.
I have had several ex male partners who didn’t cry and I started on them. I made all of them cry and it is one of the things I am most proud of. Because in my opinion it was a gift that will help them with their forward lives. I expect they cried most at the breakdown of our relationship, and there is a poetic justice in that.
So cry, all of you. Cry until there’s nothing left. Otherwise you might dry up.
I Want To Make Grown Men Weep premieres as an audio show at Camden People’s Theatre’s SPRINT DIGITAL festival from May 31st-June 6th (available on demand). 40 mins, Pay What You Want