Ry Y.
Photography by Alyse Stauffer
If you’re reading this, don’t forget to cry.
Crying, especially within the male-presenting demographic, is perceived as a show of weakness and is something to be hidden from others, and often, oneself. It is someone at their lowest of lows. A sign of weakness. Proof that you don’t have what it takes. And you know what? They’re 100% correct. Or that’s what a younger me would have said. Throughout early adolescence, we’ve been taught not to cry, especially in front of friends, and lord forbid in a public setting. I grew up as a quiet kid, wary to show emotions to my classmates in school, and expressing my frustration through anger.
Last year, I worked part-time at an animal hospital. That means I have to bear witness to the saddest parts of owning a pet. I have seen many final goodbyes between families and pets. I have heard the howls of pain from animals coming in for gut-wrenching injuries. Countless times I have brought in tissues for clients, lending an ear to hear the stories about their best friends. It never gets easier. New York City: the city that never sleeps; evermoving and apathetic towards those who can’t keep up. I have no time to dwell on these moments or process the emotions I should be feeling.
Life waits for no one, and I’m no exception. I keep my head down and see the next patient, hoping for a less harrowing case, maybe a simple dermatitis or a teeth cleaning. This cycle continued for months on end.
This March, for spring break, I went on a trip to Utah to work at an animal sanctuary. On the last day of the trip, my friends and I visited a resting place for thousands of beloved family pets. Listening to the sounds of wind chimes singing, one for every pet, all the emotions and thoughts I had been holding in, along with the tears, came cascading all at once.
Crying gives us a cathartic release and a reset point. Crying allows us to understand what we hold dear and what we have neglected. That moment in Utah made me realize how much people’s bonds with their pets mean to me and helped me find new vigor in pursuing a future where I can cherish the things I hold dear unabashedly. Life waits for no one, and I’m no exception. But you can always take a moment to reflect, collect your belongings, and catch up later. I hope you also find solace in wearing your emotions on your sleeve every once in a while, because trust me, sometimes it just feels good to cry.
Ry Y., New York University
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