I’m not much of a crier. People learn that about me over time and think I’m tough. Or less feminine. Or heartless. The point is there are a lot of labels put on girls who don’t cry much, labels which would make a girl who cries, cry. It’s not that I don’t have depth, I do. I just have a high tolerance for emotional pain. Physical pain? Forget it. I’ve been known to display low level histrionics over a stubbed toe.
That shit hurts.
I think I learned not to cry from the way others reacted to my displays of sadness As a kid, I saw other girls cry and people would try to comfort them by saying ‘don’t cry” and hugging them. Other girls crying evoked empathy, sympathy, and understanding. Not me. I cry and people went into shock and disbelief. Not because they didn’t think I was capable but because I look like I’m morphing into the Werewolf of London. My face gets barbarically distorted and turns a deep purple/red. I tend to bare my teeth. It scares people. I am also terrified, adding to the whole “what the FUCK is going on with Kendra? Is she crying because she’s sad or because her “when I cry I turn into a feral wolverine” secret has been exposed?” scenario. When I cry in front of someone I show them my arms to assure them I’m not suddenly growing animal hair. Mostly I do it to assure myself. I’m just not the type of girl who enjoys a good cry. Crying scares the shit out of me and everybody around me. I’ve had boyfriends who would be like “oh you’re crying? I’m sorry but I can’t watch this and have a sexual relationship with you in the future sooooo sounds like a perfect time for me to start that running regime I’ve talked about for 3 years. See ya when the facial swelling subsides”
After moving my sister to Maine, I cried in the airport in Portland. I tried to hide my hideousness with a baseball cap but that didn’t dull the audio of my whimpering. One lady offered me a tissue I took two. She wanted to talk about someone else who had cried at the airport but when she took a really good look at me she stopped midsentence, covered her jugular, and waved a cross in my face
Still crying I went into Burger King and gasped out my order
“Large root beer please”
“Sometimes all you need is a sugary soda to make you feel better “
He walked away, forcing me to put my payment on the counter. Later I thought he may have done that deliberately so as to keep his distance. Smart. Keep the wild beast arm’s length away. Avoid the Danger Zone
I had to stop myself from going back and asking “can I buy a hamburger raw?”
Thanks for listening!
Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.