Today I read a post on how women cried about not having children.
It occurred to me that in all scenarios, these women were married.
I’m sure their pain is immense.
I found myself relating in so many different ways.
My thoughts drifted to all the women in their 30s, 40s and so on who aren’t even married.
And they cry for it.
They cry for all the failed relationships.
They cry for all the guys who came into their lives to be just another guy rather than a Man.
Rather than The Man.
They cry for the endless love they have to give and it’s held within them.
They cry for the experiences they can’t share with a special one.
They cry for not having kids.
They cry for the loneliness.
They cry for the hopelessness.
They cry because they think they’re broken.
There’s no other half.
No one is their rock.
There’s no one to lean on.
They become their own rock.
They slowly let go of the heavy load to face everything as lightly as they can.
We all cry. And we all cry for different reasons.
For whatever is lacking in our life that we value as fundamental.
Women cry a lot.
That’s how they cleanse.
That’s how they release emotions.
But we don’t only cry. And we don’t cry all the time.
We also laugh. We smile. We wander.
We hope for a sudden magical twist to lead us towards the rest of our life.
We know we’re building our lives as we go.
Bad decisions, good decisions.
They all build us.
Make us stronger. Happier. Hopeful.
We have no other choice but to believe.
We have no other choice but to believe in ourselves when no one else does.
No other choice other than to keep smiling and moving forward.
For the sake of our sanity.
For the sake of our soul.
For the sake of who we are.
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