Calling me a Crybaby

I have always struggled, maybe a little bit too much, to accept who I am. I have always cared about what people thought of me. I remember crying when I was little because I was called a crybaby. And it was true, I did cry a lot, but I did not know how else to express my feelings. Arguably, I still do not know how to verbally express how I feel.

Looking back now I realize that I was just always way too in tune with my feelings. Or maybe not way too in tune, but definitely more than those who were next to me. The term I use now is emotional. There have been times where I think I am way to emotional, which usually results in me turning to Google and taking bipolar and clinical depression quizzes. I suddenly stop and tell myself, its okay to feel. Why not? At least you are connected with your self.

Through analyzing every emotion I am able to know how a situation may affect the way I feel and why. If I am close to the person I usually give them a heads up so that they will not be surprise when little things drastically change my mood. Sometimes, people I do not know well say triggering words that automatically change my mood no matter how happy I was the second before that word. And of course one of those words is crybaby. Coming into college and being vulnerable in my English class led people to refer to me as a crybaby. And of course I was hurt. Not only because of the past, but because I rarely open up and I was completely vulnerable with my peers. I felt that it was not respected or appreciated. I struggled to tell people not to call me that after being very emotional in my English class because I feared that they would ask for the story behind that triggering word. However, after I did tell my friends I was very satisfied and they really do listen. They completely understood and have yet to call me by that term or even say it around me.

It is extremely hard for me to open up because I care so much what people think of me. But I am so glad I opened up to my friends and I saw just how much they cared. I can understand how frustrating it is to see someone bothered either in tears or by their attitude and have them say that everything is fine. It happens all the time when I see my mom upset. It’s rare that some one actually knows why I am crying, mostly because my replies are “Nothing” or “I don’t want to talk about it.” It is never that I don’t want to talk about it, I always want to talk about it actually. The truth is I cannot bring myself to formulate words because of memories of my emotions being shut down by people calling me a crybaby or someone thinking that what I am crying over is no big deal.

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