Big Boys Don't Cry ... Uh, Yeah They Do

Author:
LaZeric Freeman
Updated date:
Jun 19, 2022

I was that loner kid who read comics when everyone else was playing, listened to the B-sides, watched old movies ... And wrote in spirals

big-boys-dont-cry-uh-yeah-they-do — Urban Clip Art

I can remember my Uncle Curt telling me that big boys don't cry as he comforted me. On the surface, it would seem that I was being given a rule, a foundation to live my life upon. But in hindsight, I know that his message was a whole lot deeper ... Maybe deeper than he even knew.

Men are stereo typically notorious for hiding their feelings. And women are allegedly well known for wanting men to be more vulnerable with their feelings. In reality, when a man tries to be vulnerable, sometimes he gives too much away and gets labeled as too needy, too clingy or soft. That type of dichotomy is confusing as all get out. Which makes one think that Uncle Curt's advice was best. Don't cry, because big boys don't cry and never should cry, because your woman will think you're a punk and it only causes problems. But wait ... Let's probe a little deeper.

me and Dad at Uncle Curt's house
Ruby Freeman

When Uncle Curt told me that big boys don't cry ... I'd fallen and hurt myself. I'd scraped my knee or my arm or something that required alcohol and a bandage. So in my six year old mind, I indeed had something to cry about.

When my uncle said these infamous words, he said them in a soothing manner. He said them with his arms around me, holding me close to his heart. And there was absolutely nothing hardcore or gangster about this moment. No "man up" or any other such gibberish. It was all about a "father's love" towards a nephew whose father wasn't around as much. It was compassion disguised as a mantra that many have chosen to take to heart.

I'm that guy who was predominately raised by a single mother. So perhaps I often see things slightly different than someone who had a father in their life 24/7. Meaning that possibly there was a lot more hugs and kisses in my scenario. But then again, my mind runs back to my uncle. A uncle by marriage who may have had more of a lasting effect on me than any other male in my life, including biological uncles.

I don't know ... But in my estimation, I could have easily chosen the hard way. I could have chosen cigarettes, drinking, drugs or gangs to fill in the empty spaces left in my life, but I didn't. Instead, I used Uncle Curt -- who I had seen cry before -- as my example. Not to mention television dads like MICHAEL LANDON''s Pa Ingalls to teach me important life lessons. That mixture of "manly tough" and compassion for others ...

Last night I went to church ... Saturday service ... Our pastor was out of town -- actually in Paris during a newsworthy tragedy. In his place was his brother, Reverend PHIL MUNSEY who spoke about feelings of inferiority, guilt and fear. How those emotions can sometimes prevent people from fulfilling their dreams and having a productive life. A very thought provoking sermon.

There was an older man behind me -- maybe in his 50s or early 60s. When he first entered the church he was very jovial, greeting a friend in a loud and boisterous manner; reminding me of the greetings of the supporting "pool room characters" featured on the classic sitcom, Sanford & Son.

During the sermon, he was very vocal: That's good Word!!, You're preaching now Pastor!! or Amen! Amen!

But towards the end of the sermon, when Pastor Munsey began speaking about self worth, how some don't feel like their life matters or that they are special ... The man began to weep ... Growing from soft, almost inaudible crying to a louder display that wasn't easy to ignore.

"Rev" asked us to pray at the end of the sermon. Not out of the ordinary. But as we prayed, we were instructed to put our hand on the shoulder of the person next to us. Myself, my wife and two other people instinctively reached out to touch this poor soul's shoulder.

His hands were covering his face as he continued to sob. Whatever he was going through, he was filled with shame for exposing his vulnerability openly. But I think that in the end, he felt the love being extended towards him by a band of strangers.

As service concluded, I shook his hand and gave him a hug ... I didn't really have words to offer him. Not that I didn't want to, I just didn't know what to say. But I hope that somehow I conveyed that he should feel no shame. That sometimes, big boys must cry.