Lynchburg Living

"Just a Thought..."

By Jon Dupin

Most men don’t cry. At least we don’t do so easily. On the rare instances that we might tear up, there is usually a major smack-down with our soul before the soul sends us to the mat and finally pins us. Don’t you do this to me! Afterwards, we almost feel betrayed by our own emotional prison guards. Like the two of them (heart and mind) got together and conspired against us. How could you let this happen? We scold them like children and sentence them to the dungeon.

I read somewhere years ago that men don’t cry for two major reasons: 1) We are taught not to; the whole concept of “Big boys don’t cry” and “Get some grit in your throat, boy!” and 2) we are afraid. If we cry, then it reveals weakness and vulnerability. Of course, that is unacceptable, because the word could get out that we’re one of “those guys.” Losing respect on the streets of Guy-town could be the kiss of death. Eventually, our tear ducts atrophy, or worse, spill over uncontrollably. Yes, either the river dries up (callused and alone) or the levee breaks completely (nervous breakdown).

I got convicted about this as I continued to raise two boys and study my own faith through the fatherhood lens. As a Christian, I realized that Jesus cried. But, I also thought that was one part of my faith that I didn’t think I could ever understand. To be honest, I don’t know how I justified that line of thinking as a man who takes his faith seriously. Nevertheless, I just refused to accept that crying was spiritually healthy, instead of a major liability. To cry means I’m a lesser man, I thought. It’s ironic, because I guess somehow I was subconsciously telling myself that Jesus was less of a man, too.  Either way, I was going to teach my boys the party line and make our home a “no crying man zone.”

Then I uncovered a theory by Norman Schwarzkopf, the army general who won Desert Storm back in the early ’90s, and he helped me understand this tension more. I think he was quoted in a John Eldridge book or something. Anyway, it’s strange, I know, to learn about crying from a general, but here is how it played out: The general is the typical man’s man, or so I thought—grit, glory, God and country. Then something he wrote about men who don’t cry startled me. He admitted that he does not trust a man who does not cry. Why? I wondered. What he concluded was both scary and liberating for me. A man who does not cry, he continued, is a man who is hiding something.

Hiding something? Yes, if a man does not expose the rawest of his emotions, it’s because there is another man (or boy) in there he does not want others to know about. And it’s that hidden boy that will sabotage anyone to make sure he remains protected. It seems Schwarzkopf had also figured out something about how men are wired and are supposed to live best and most free. Be honest about everything, even those things that are sad, confusing and out of our control (most everything).

This was eye-opening for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t cry at the drop of a hat (protection statement), but now I let the tears roll when they are ready … much more often than before. Just trying to keep it real, fellas. Maybe we all should.