004 - On Crying in Public
Honestly, crying in public is strangely cathartic and it helps me to not be scared of my vulnerability.
Hello, stranger. How are you? I hope you’re always safe and with people who don’t drive you up the wall.
A few days ago, I was doing some exercise in one of my favorite parks, when suddenly my Spotify randomly played Bridget Jones’s Diary soundtrack, Out of Reach by Gabrielle. As I did my power walk, I began to whimper, and tears streamed down my face. I don’t have any particular connection to the song or the movie either, but I do know that the cry felt so good.
I think the first time I have a tendency to unabashedly cry in public was when I was 7, after an incident with my mom and aunties. They took me to a theme park, where I saw a bunch of clowns and I freaked out and cried hysterically right there on the spot. My mom quickly told me to stop crying and throwing tantrums instead of letting me ride the tides of emotions because people were looking and later taught me when and where crying is acceptable. I sort of grew up believing that crying in public means judgement and embarrassment, for myself and people around me. However, somehow I’ve been known as a “cry baby” since. Sometimes, I can get upset and overwhelmed pretty easily. My parents would tease me to family members about how I cry and the way my face would look when I’m crying.
I also have this vivid memory of leaving my class in junior high school one day while desperately trying to keep tears from running down my cheeks. Eventually, I found a quiet spot on the back of my school, I slid down to the floor, and gave myself permission to sob, until this guy that I had a crush on saw me crying and asked me if I was okay. I don’t remember the reason for the cry, but I can still remember the way he looked at me as I sat there sobbing. Honestly it was magnificent because he knew I existed. Isn’t it every teenage girl’s dream to have your crush noticed you?
When I moved to Melbourne 3 years ago, I experienced a tremendous change in my life and loneliness that echoes through my bones. I’ve tried to hold it in but I can’t be bothered anymore. Maybe it was a symptom of getting older. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was because Mercury is in Retrograde. I embrace my emotions more openly, even the ugly ones. I cry in parks. I cry in bars. I cry in coffee shops. I cry in museums. I cry in libraries. I cry in trams, buses and trains. I cry while walking on the street. When I cry in public here, sure, people might look initially, but eventually, people stop caring and subsequently stop looking.
I am not ashamed to admit that my crying in public sessions is more than semi-regular. I know it’s unrealistic to feel happy-go-lucky all the time. I know that sometimes, things get on top of me and I feel upset and it’s okay to be sad. This doesn’t mean that I’m weak and diminish my self-worth. If anything, crying in public shows that I’m a human being with real feelings and emotions.
So, I wanted to share with you my memorable places in Melbourne where I have cried in public. I know nobody asked for this but hopefully this will give you a clear idea on how less embarrassing, and more cathartic it feels to be crying in public. Without further ado, let’s get this sob-story on the road.
✿ Carlton Gardens ✿
There is something deeply magical about this garden. I visit this garden every week. First, because it’s in my neighborhood, and second, because I just simply love this garden. The ornamental lakes, the fountains surrounding the grand Royal Exhibition Building, and the lovely Moreton Bay fig trees — the perfect spot to cry. I remember the first time I cried here was after I had a phone call with my Dad, who's having a financial crisis and on the verge of sending me back to Jakarta because he can’t pay for my tuition fee. It was a really tough time for me and I remember I was sitting on the bench, trying to distract myself from my own thoughts by reading a book, only to read the same sentence over and over again. When I looked up, the cold air hit me with a whoosh, and at the sight of the giant trees and two cute shih tzu dogs in front of me, a fresh untameable river of tears suddenly hurtled down my cheeks.
Ever since, this garden pretty much became my go-to spot to cry in. My crying jags tend to center around forms of uncertainty and overwhelming — feeling stuck and weighed down in my body and my mind, unable to explore and find the creative freedom I had once so readily and ease-fully held in my hands, overwhelmed by the beauty of this garden and wishing I could stay here forever. I have found, in these moments of despair, that crying surrounded by beautiful lush greenery plants and trees brings me solace.
✿ RMIT University Brunswick ✿
Throughout my time studying, tons of tears have been shed. There were two memorable moments and both of them happened in the exact same spot — the designated smoking area. The first time was happy tears. On the final week of first semester, I have received a compliment of my presentation about the wool industry (in which I had non-stop nightmares about sheep, but this story is for another time) and after weeks of seemingly endless tension had finally come to an end, partly out of relief and partly out of frustration, I found myself bleary-eyed while taking a cig. I remember that was the first time I felt proud of myself in a long time.
The second tear happened after I received an email from my manager at Aesop, that my contract with them has come to an end and they won’t be needing my help anymore. I went to smoke and saw my mentor, whom I admire and developed a friendship with outside uni, offered me a cigarette and asked how am I doing. Just as the sun was about to set, I shed a tear. The fact that I was being brought to tears by a freaking cigarette made me feel so pathetic. I would say this tears was a culmination of a lot of things that has been build up inside of me — assignments overload, being rejected from a company I’m dying to work with, struggling with not understanding why my interests are all over the place and nothing I do make sense, and on top of that, feeling intimidated by cool and talented people I have encountered everyday. I believe crying in uni is a thing for a lot of students. Sometimes I imagine all of us running after class, gathering in the smoking area and crying together. I don’t take pleasure in this image, but I’m comforted by the idea that, being a student is not easy and we all cry.
✿ Tram Route 6 & 96 ✿
I most frequently rode and broke down in tears on these trams. The one cry that forever planted in my brain was the day my husband & I had a huge fight. It was so windy that day and I raised an issue about how my eyes won’t stop watering. He offered me his sunglasses, but I refused, saying “I don’t like to wear sunglasses”. This somehow resulted in a fight, in which we were aware that there was a bigger issue lying here. Both of us are still struggling with our lives in Melbourne, dealing with financial issues, finding a job, and adjusting to married life far away from friends and family. We took a separate tram and once I got in, grabbed a seat, closed my eyes, popped my headphones in, unable to hold back tears, I began to sob. When I started to cry, the old woman sitting in front of me looked my way as I wiped my tears with the back of my jacket sleeve, and when she got off at Parliament Station, she smiled sympathetically in my direction.
Crying in public transportation is not a new discovery for me. Back in Jakarta, I filled quite a number of buckets with tears while riding TransJakarta and GoJek to and from home. The triggers are mostly because I feel mentally and emotionally exhausted, due to work, my routines and the people around me. I was unable to hold back tears when I took a bus ride in Seoul, crossing Han River at night. Perhaps it’s because I put on my favorite melancholic song, got my head against the window like I was the main character in a coming-of-age movie. Or maybe it’s because I’m just a melodramatic cry baby (if that already wasn’t self evident), however I found this weird comfort in crying on the road alongside strangers. It’s therapeutic crying territory.
I’m completely aware that not everyone would find the idea of crying in public liberating. There’s still a stigma for some when it comes to crying (or conveying any emotion at all, for that matter). There seems to have been an idea developed of places you can cry and how you should cry. Some people might prefer to cry behind walls, by themselves. That’s totally fine, I do that too sometimes. But is it really that bad to reclaim our pain, to own and embrace them? We need to try to stop feeling ashamed of ourselves for being fragile and worrying what other people might think.
So, next time you find yourself shedding a tear on the train, or in that aisle near your favorite coffee shop, know that you are not alone and there is no shame in doing that. Cry in public! Have your feelings and move on!
Till then,
Gita xxx
✿✿✿ some cool stuff to brighten your day ✿✿✿
🌸 Finished Sally Rooney’s new book and honestly, I have a conflicted feelings about it. Let’s be honest, Rooney’s characters are always horrible, pretentious and unlikable people. However, I love her writing and the nuances of dread and bleakness she puts into everyday situation, in particular human reactions.
I thoroughly enjoyed the book until the last 20 pages. This book poses an interesting idea — whether love and relationships are ‘enough’ as a consolation when the world is crumbling.
🌼 Listen to this forests from around the world. It’s so soothing and calming.
🌷Someday, I will have a proper, beautiful kitchen and I’ll play this while cooking indomie and kimchi fried rice.
💐 “Give me a room, where I can shut a door!” A+