I don’t think we cry for others as much as we cry for ourselves. Sounds selfish, huh? I cry for myself and forget about others? I do think that sometimes the tears we shed for others are actually us just crying for ourselves. A long time ago I felt like a very inadequate person. I’m sure that most people have also felt the same way, yet I still believe that each experience is unique to the person because of who they are and how they view the world.

After I grew a little, I used to always feel a little disturbed by little girls who struggled making friends or were left out of groups. I also usually only felt at home with people whom others seemed to reject even when I wasn’t the one being rejected at the time. So yeah, I don’t think the pain and sadness we’ve felt for ourselves as children ever really goes away— it’s just redirected. We project ourselves on the lonely, or the ignored, the “oh so perfect” people who are terrified of failing, and we fight for them, cry for them and remain on their sides faithfully for as long as they need us and forget that we as children once wished for the person we are right now.

In some backwards way I think we are trying to be our own heroes. Soothing the screaming child on the inside of us buried in the depths of our memories by fighting for what we thought he or she truly deserved. Can we save them? How many can we save until we feel better about our past? About our pain? About what we always thought we deserved, but never had a chance to receive. Sometimes I think all those tears we cry for others comes from the tortured child hidden in the ice of our souls. Our minds cry for others but our souls, they weep for themselves, but what would we be without our glaciers of ice that pile high inside of us? A great deal less compassionate. This piece is not to discourage you. I say rejoice in your pain. It’s no longer just your tears, it’s a part of you, evolving in a world of change, into something greater than sadness, something like hope.