Bawling my guts out.

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Today we have the delightful Danielle from Keeping up with the Holsbys, who has some good advice about weeping.

There are two types of people in the world. There are people who can bite their lip and keep a staunch head in the face of certain situations, and then there are wobbly-lipped weepers.

I fall into the latter of the two categories.

If the situation actually calls for me to squirt a tear, then there is no harm done.

I look delightfully sensitive.

Partners often laugh at me tearing up at movies, or move in to schnuggle me a little tighter as I secretly wipe my nose on their unsuspecting shoulder.

You see, I’m not just Captain Weepy Pants (wow, didn’t think that moniker through) when I watch Steel Magnolias and The Notebook. Sometimes the evening news is enough to reduce me to a puddle.

Fair enough though, right?

The news is fairly grim, but even the feel good “cat vomits iPhone in time for birthday text” story at the end can spring tears of happiness. It’s like I put myself into every single situation I see and create my own Truman Show of emotions.

I’ve recently started a job working at a large women’s magazine. It’s 10 kinds of fab, and I really wanted to appear professional and together but my new colleagues saw my propensity for waterworks on Day Two.

Yep, the second day I worked there I sniveled at my desk while I was writing a news story.

“Don’t worry,” they assured me, “ you’ll harden to it soon.”

I won’t though because I’m a weeper, who comes from a long line of weepers.

My mum wasn’t a good crier for many years, but then someone gave her crying lessons by watching Terms of Endearment and other heart wrenchers and they opened the flood-gates.

From then, she was good. I grew up being down with weeping. In my early teens I used to watch myself cry in front of the mirror to ensure I had stellar weep face.

Weeping is not a sign of weakness, usually. It’s not so bad if you’re watching something sad, but it’s a bitch when you’re trying to be strong.

When you’re trying to put across a staunch façade but your bottom lip goes, and your eyes glisten, you have lost all rank.

Anger is my biggest killer.

I remember one time I was arguing with my boss and I was about to quit my job because he was such an epic douche canoe, and I was positively ropable.

I was endeavouring to keep my rage in check, so I could fully give him the benefit of my acid-tongued ire but then the unthinkable happened.

I felt it go; my chin quivered.

His eyes dropped to it and he practically sneered. Man, that guy gave me the schlits.

That first chin quaver is always like the tiny drop of wee that happens at an aerobics class. You know once the first one has happened it’s a downhill slope from there and you really have no control no matter how you try to reel it in.

My lower lip followed the chin, my eyes prickled with tears, and I quit my job in the most spectacular deluge of tears. Not quite the strong, composed fantasy I had in the car on my way there whilst listening to Eye of the Tiger to psych myself up, let me assure you.

The absolute pits, however, is when that one rogue tear makes a break down your nose crease and sneaks down towards your upper lip. You know it’s a tear gone walkabouts, but to the average person that looks like snot.

I learned from an early age never to try to catch that bad boy with my tongue because if I must be pegged a weeper, I refuse to be pegged a weeping snot licker.

If you’re reading this thinking “Lordy, what is this girl banging on about?” then you should stop here, but if you’re reading this and nodding your head thinking “I feel you, sister,” then I have a couple of tips for you –

  1. Always wear waterproof mascara to prevent looking like Kung Fu Panda
  2. Always carry tissues unless you’ve already soiled them. Trying to publicly recycle tissues is worse than being a weeper.
  3. Weep with pride. Tears that come out at the top end, don’t sneak out of the bottom end.

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 Be honest. When is the last time you cried?