A good cry
Sometimes you just need a good cry.
The other night my husband came home to find me and my best friend in tears at the kitchen table. I tried to explain to him that this was a GOOD thing, but I’m not sure he quite got it.
My best friend is my safe person. Around her, there is no filtering or touching up the rough edges of my thoughts make them presentable. They all just comes tumbling out of my mouth into a giant pile on the floor and we sort through them together. We celebrate the beautiful thoughts and we don’t shy away from the ugly ones. We go through every last one of them, choosing which are mine to keep and which should be turned over to my higher power.
The problem is that my best friend and I live in different cities. Months can go by between our visits. In the meantime, the thoughts just build up. The jumbled pile inside me takes up more and more space and grows heavier by the day.
The tears are part of the unburdening. They are a mixture of relief and renewal, letting out just enough pressure that I can function again without fully deflating me.
Find yourself a friend who’ll cry with you at your kitchen table.
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