Actually, I don’t know why women leak. We just do. Perhaps not all women, but many of us.
Whenever we feel sadness or sorrow, compassion or joy, empathy or misconduct, our eyes tear up and flood our face. Whenever our child (or children) is hurting, we feel their pain. Whenever we see a movie or read a book that reaches into our hearts and connects to our tear ducts. Whenever our hormones happen to be on overdrive (or overload?) Whenever we feel misunderstood.
I have cried at the end of Toy Story 3, Despicable Me, and E.T. (to name a few) I wept through Alabama Moon and The Odd Life of Timothy Green. I need an entire box of tissues each time I watch “Up” and I refuse to watch “The Notebook” ever again. I’ve cried when reading Children’s books such as “The Robot and The Bluebird” by David Lucas or “You are Mine” by Max Lucado. I cried during parts of “The One and Only Ivan” by Katherine Applegate and stories such as Monkeys and the Mangos (which has many versions).
Tear ducts seem to be attached to the heart strings except in the case of chopping onions – that produces tears in which the heart is not involved. Roland and Jenna can both seem to chop onions without tearing up. Jenna laughs when I chop onions.
Last night I cried during an episode of “Chopped” for crying out loud. To me it just feels pretty silly to cry at the end of reality show. What a dweeb. The female chef had burned herself and her competitor who claims he was arrogant and had stepped on others to climb to the top had made amends . . . and offered to pay for her plane ticket out of his winnings.
We’re a sorry case, I suppose. But we’re also awesome at being able to feel.