Some People Cry Easily. Don't Consider Them Weak or Judge Them at All

Those who cry easily, their waterworks aren't emotional malfunction but rather perfect expression—the soul's poetry written in salt water.

Communion with twilight waters: me, as a solitary silhouette whispering secrets to the listening waves | Self-portrait captured in the gloaming hour

Tears aren't weakness—they're windows to the soul. Don't judge the easy criers among us; their emotional canvas simply displays vibrant colors where others show muted tones. We're all wired differently—a beautiful tapestry of neurological patterns, life stories, and cultural influences that determine when our emotions spill over.

That friend who tears up at commercials? They're not broken—they're tuned to a different frequency. Their emotional antenna picks up signals others might miss, a genetic gift wrapped in social experiences. This sensitivity isn't a flaw in the human design but rather a fascinating variation on our emotional spectrum—like different notes creating a complex harmony.

Those who express emotions freely aren't lacking control—they're often embracing a healthier relationship with their inner world. While some build dams to hold back emotional rivers, these natural criers let the waters flow, preventing the erosion that comes from emotional suppression. Their tears water the garden of authentic connections and personal well-being.

Tears speak a language older than words. They communicate joy's overflow, frustration's peak, relief's release, or being touched by something transcendent. Throughout human history, these glistening messengers have conveyed what our vocabulary cannot capture. The courage to show vulnerability—to let others witness your unfiltered emotional truth—requires remarkable strength, not weakness. Those who cry easily might just be emotional astronauts, venturing deeper into human experience than their stoic counterparts dare to go.

One day, a friend of mine was just visiting me for dinner. Coincidentally, that famous emotional theme song from the Titanic movie—"My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion—was playing softly on my stereo system. As soon as they entered the doorway of my home, they heard the melodic notes floating through the air and, to everyone's surprise, started crying instantly. Tears welled up in their eyes and began streaming down their cheeks without warning or hesitation. All of my other friends and I immediately rushed over to offer support and comfort, concerned that something terrible had happened. Then we came to understand that it was simply the powerful emotional resonance of the song that my friend felt so deeply touching. The music had instantly transported them to memories and feelings that none of us could fully comprehend. Rather than feeling awkward or uncomfortable with this display of emotion, we genuinely admired our friend for being so emotionally wonderful—so open and authentic in their expression. It was a beautiful reminder of how deeply music can affect us and how precious it is to know people who aren't afraid to let their feelings show.

Most of us vividly remember those intense periods during our college or university days when the crushing weight of exam stress would reduce even the most composed students to tears. The pressure of performing well, the fear of failure, and the overwhelming anxiety about future prospects created an emotional pressure cooker that sometimes simply had to release. I have a close friend who, despite being remarkably brave in most life situations, inevitably experiences tears welling up before boarding any aircraft. Their anxiety around flying manifests physically through these tears, a response they've learned to accept rather than fight against. These individuals—the exam-stressed students, my flight-anxious friend—are not exhibiting weakness or timidity in these moments of vulnerability. On the contrary, they possess the remarkable capacity to allow their unfiltered emotions to surface naturally, without suppression or shame. Their emotional transparency represents not a deficiency but rather an authentic embracing of the full human experience. These emotions that flow so freely are not burdens to be contained but precious gifts that connect us to our deepest humanity and to one another.

What turns some souls into wellsprings of tears? It's a magnificent emotional alchemy—part divine wiring, part life's tender sculpting. Nature bestows upon some hearts neurological tapestries that transform feelings into teardrops with elegant ease. Meanwhile, childhood's gentle hands or harsh grips leave invisible fingerprints on our emotional triggers. The body's hormonal dance creates unique rhythms of sensitivity, while certain minds possess exquisite neural architectures that amplify life's emotional vibrations.

Around the world, invisible cultural choreographies teach us when to let tears flow freely and when to lock them behind stoic facades—some traditions celebrate the watering of emotional gardens while others prize the desert of restraint. These beautiful criers walking among us aren't betraying weakness but revealing their authentic humanity—their tears are liquid truth, precious jewels of connection falling from eyes that refuse to filter the world through indifference. Their waterworks aren't emotional malfunction but rather perfect expression—the soul's poetry written in salt water.

Tears and joy can coexist. True joy doesn't cancel sadness or tears—rather, it embraces emotional balance where all expressions are welcomed. To illustrate this balance, I'd like to share a joyful video of mine. While in Newfoundland and Labrador, I met Maria Cherwick, a fiddler with Ukrainian roots in St. John's. We collaborated near the picturesque Quidi Vidi harbour, combining Punjabi Bhangra with fiddle music to build cultural bridges and create joy. Through this fusion, we're sending hope, healing, and positivity to the world.

Honor these sacred teardrops—liquid messengers from the soul's deepest chambers. Like prisms catching light, they refract understanding beyond ordinary perception. When someone's eyes brim easily, they're not revealing fragility but unveiling their superpower: an exquisite emotional antenna that captures signals most miss in life's static.

These crystalline ambassadors whisper of a heart unafraid to feel the full spectrum of existence—from the shattering beauty of a sunset to the gossamer touch of nostalgia. The easy crier navigates by emotional starlight, their inner compass calibrated to detect nuances that elude thicker-skinned travelers. Their tears aren't weakness leaking out but rather wisdom welling up—evidence of an emotional intelligence that comprehends life's poetry without translation.

Cherish these emotional alchemists among us, who transform ordinary moments into golden experiences through their willingness to be moved. Their gift isn't in holding back but in letting go—in surrendering to the authentic current of feeling that flows beneath our carefully constructed surfaces. Their teardrops aren't cracks in their armor but rather windows into a soul brave enough to experience life undiluted.

*****

Dear reader,

If your income situation is stable, consider becoming a patron of my artistic soul—where words dance and bodies speak— as a paid subscriber.

If you can, write your thoughts in the comments below.

With grateful heart,

Gurdeep