Make your own free website on Tripod.com

Essays by KT

Big Boys Dont Cry?

Home
Affirming Diversity
Which Way Home
Mis experiencias con español
La figura de la madre
La redención
Manifestations of the Divine Brahma
The Six Models of the Church
Screwtape
Affirmative Action
Poverty
A Friend Is
A persuadir
Aprovecha el día
Armas de fuego
Asperger's Disorder
ASDs: Autism
Black Friday
Book Intro
Big Boys Dont Cry?
Cancion del pirata
Cell Phones
Cathedral Within
Change the World
Child Care
Civil Society
Community...
Conscience
Christian Family
Organ Donation
Deanne Bray
Don't
Time
Drug Testing
Memoria
Faith in Narnia
Fast Food?
Foundational...
Friends?
Guns and Games
Grenz Review
The Odyssey
I Am
Jesus the Christ
Keep the Laws!
Koinonia
La ciencia
La inmigración
Louis Braille
Marriage Reflection
Maria...
Media/Self-Image
Mi lugar de refugio
My Life (Erikson)
Morality
My Special Place
Ranas
Reflection -Marriage
Romance sonámbulo
Paul/Community
Public-service values
Philosophy/Christianity
Semana Santa
Smoking
Solidarity
Spe Salvi
Surprise!
Teen Suicide
Thanks/Adoration
Un Santo legendario
Better World
The Four Loves
"Jesus Freak" Picture
Mona Lupe
Mother of Jesus
Holy Eucharist
Religión en Niebla
The U.S. Economy
Todo es regalo
Trip to NY ...
True Friends
Una lección
Unlikeliest Friends
Santo legendario
Vs. and Verses
What's the Diff?
Walsh Review
Means to be Human
Million dollars
Witnesses
9/11

Tom the Great (Part of "Book)

Although society has taught us that "big boys don't cry," I learned that it's okay to cry from whom other than... a guy? Yes, that's right a guy taught me that it's okay to cry... and it is, it really is, even for those of you "tough guys" out there.
I wasn't really much of a crier, especially in front of people. I just didn't really care for a whole lot of attention, still don't. When someone cries, it's kind of our nature to see what's wrong and try to make it better, and that created attention that I didn't want, so I just didn't cry at all. I've certainly gotten better at not holding so much in though. I still don't like crying in front of people but I've learned it's okay. I used to hold everything in; finally, when I couldn't hold anymore in, the slightest thing would set me off.
For example, one year on Mother's Day, my friend said something about my mom working again. I started crying. It wasn't what she said, or even so much that my mom was working on Mother's Day. I had been holding so much in, and was trying to hide so much from so many people, that I exploded. The bright-eyed and bushy-tailed person that I appeared to be that day and even the happiness that I was feeling, it was all fake. Happiness is something that people don't ask about, though... something they don't try to fix. I guess my apparent quick and extreme change in mood is what surprised them the most.
Anyways, off the bunny trail. We were on our way back from a Steubenville Youth Conference in 2005 (it was my third year going to that conference) and the guy who was sitting next to me went up to the front of the bus to take advantage of the open mic time, when we had the chance to tell the bus about our experience at the conference. He talked about his first Steubenville experience.
Meanwhile I was sitting and trying hard to listen as a million thoughts were rushing through my head. I was thinking about everything that had happened to me at Steubie, everything I would try so hard to change and fail at yet again, and everything that I wanted so much to share with everyone but didn't have the courage to. These thoughts were running through my head even before he got up there, even as he was sitting next to me, but now I was sitting alone, and his talk kept triggering other memories and other thoughts.
I buried my face in my arm to hide my tears and muffle my cries. I didn't want anyone to notice, I didn't want to cry. Then he stopped talking and some of the thoughts disappeared and some turned to the realization that someone might see me crying. But at that point I wanted to know that things would be fine, I wanted someone to notice that I wasn't okay, so I kept crying. When he sat back down, it wasn't the feared, all-attention-on-Katie-creator, "What's wrong," that came out of his mouth. He simply told me not to be afraid to cry, to let it out, and he gave me a hug, and with that let me know that he was there for me.
Thanks Tom!

Enter supporting content here