Tearless Cries

I'm beginning to understand that emotional maturity and emotional expression are different things. We can articulate our feelings and still behave immaturely. In my writing, I’m projecting my journey towards greater emotional maturity. I’m learning to express and communicate my emotions better. If I'm happy, I can express it; if I'm angry, I can communicate that too. Now, I can even communicate sadness.

Before, I would suppress sadness with food, drinks, or media. Now, I recognize sadness and feel where it resides in my body. However, I don't know how to release it. Yesterday, I explored this: What happens if I don’t release my sadness? It fills my body with heaviness. This unreleased sadness often leads to despair and sometimes to a depressive state. For a long time, it has taken me there, except for a couple of months ago in India. I know that when I feel heavy inside, movement helps, especially lifting weights. Twenty to thirty minutes at the gym lifts my spirits. I think it’s the combination of movement and the release of endorphins.

Identifying emotions and communicating them to myself and others is a step toward further emotional maturity. But I’m still blocked when it comes to releasing sadness. Somewhere along the path, I suppressed this emotion. Over the years, I've learned that when we suppress one part of ourselves, like sadness, we also suppress its opposite—joy. If I can’t express and release sadness, I can't fully experience happiness and joy.

From the streets of Valencia

I've felt this deeply. There have been times and places, like recently in Valencia, where I could fully express both sadness and joy. Here in Toronto, it's a bit more challenging, but I’m working on it. I am better today than I was a year ago—more emotionally evolved. This means I don’t react to others' actions that trigger past pain. Instead, I can feel the emotion, observe its rise and fall like ocean waves.

These reflections have surfaced as I open myself to dating again and seeking a dynamic, expansive life partner. Someone who understands the layers of being, who has an insatiable curiosity about herself, others, and the world. Someone proactive in her day-to-day life, moving forward and upward.

Observing other couples, I realize there's no one-size-fits-all solution. Advice is based on individual experiences, and every piece of wisdom is unique. I listen, observe, and learn. I admire those who sustain long-term relationships. It’s never easy, yet some couples find a way to return to each other. It’s inspiring. I see that with the right partner, there’s an opportunity for greater freedom than I’m experiencing now.

However, I needed to release the patterns I absorbed as a child. Growing up in a traumatic household, we may intellectually reject it, but our minds are already programmed. We may not want what we experienced in childhood, but we’re drawn to the familiar. I replicated my parents' toxic patterns in my relationships. It took a lot of therapy, coaching, reading, and practices like yoga and meditation to deprogram and start reprogramming myself.

From my last relationship, I realized I was as emotionally immature as my parents and attracted similarly immature partners. Mature partners didn’t work because I wasn’t ready for them. I wasn’t even attracted to them because their energy was unfamiliar to me.

I am getting closer. All this work isn’t just to be more successful in my career or a better friend, sibling, or son. I do it because I’m preparing for her. It’s hard at times, but I know it will be worth the wait when she arrives in my life, and I in hers.

I recently listened to an interview with Esther Perel where she talked about “tearless cries.” This perfectly describes my experience with sadness. Most of the time, I wish I could cry and truly release my emotions through tears. Instead, I either suppress them or try to shake them out through physical activity. But what I really want is an epic, tearful cry.