It takes a certain kind of strength not to cry.

This is not because holding back tears takes a lot of brawn. Rather, I’m referring to the strength it took as a child to somehow internalize the belief that it is weak to cry.

That child had to endure an adult projecting their pain onto them. They had to create a defense mechanism in order to survive that interaction.

That is a special kind of strength.

That adult somehow came to believe that crying was not appropriate. So they told the child to stop because their system couldn’t handle it when that child cried. This is exactly how beliefs like “crying is weak” get passed down through generations.

I’m here to say –

It is okay to cry.

It is safe to cry.

It is strong to cry.

Crying creates tears and shaking in the body – both dislodging stored emotions that were buried to make others comfortable. The act of crying re-engages us with our bodies. It places our needs over others’ comfort.

Crying is a reclamation of who we are and who we were.

It’s more than okay to cry.

I have been told that I am a great writer.

Do I believe it?

Sure, I’m a good writer, maybe even a great one. I’ve written for enough hours to claim some level of expertise.

However, what I really hear when someone tells me that they enjoy my writing is that I’ve touched a part of them.

I don’t think they are touched by the actual words, metaphors or fancy vocabulary I use. Those elements are visible and tangible so they can be easily attributed to great writing. But those don’t make great writing.

I believe, above all, it is the energy infused into the words by a writer that makes writing “great.” When a writer knows their own voice, their writing has a clarity to it. And if a reader’s energy matches up with a writer’s, then the writing may seem great.

Somehow my little self knew that my family did not have a lot of money or resources. So, I learned not to ask for things.

I don’t remember complaining about not having new clothes or toys. It was a simple fact that we didn’t shop for those things. My mom would say I was “well behaved” for not asking or complaining.

Once in a while, on the way to the center of town, my mom would treat my brother and me to a Gatorade and donuts. I knew that the trips I took to Dunkin’ Donuts were a treat, and boy, did I savor those Bavarian cream donuts.

In high school, my best friends signed up for a trip to Europe over mid-winter break. I didn’t even think to ask my mom if I could go. Once I saw the price on the permission slip, I threw the sheet away.

I thought that even if I did ask, my mom would say no so there was no point in disappointing myself.

I shut down the ability to ask for things because I believed that I wouldn’t get those things. I also shut down the ability in order to to protect my mom from having to say no.

It is amazing what our child selves knew without ever consciously knowing.

I had “enough” and I was expected to be grateful for it. You bet I am so grateful for what I had, and I also acknowledge what I missed out on.

Through my childhood, I learned that it was not safe to ask for more. I learned that enough was good enough. I learned that resources were limited and I should not take more than my share.

I realize I’ve had trouble with the word “abundance” because of this belief that I should be grateful for “enough.” Abundance means more than enough, and my issue with asking for more has prevented that abundance from coming to me.

Now, I’m learning to welcome in abundance. I’m learning to ask for what I want. I’m learning that I can have more than enough because I am enough and I am deserving.

Back in 2007, a family member gave birth to the first baby of our family’s next generation. The birth happened to coincide with a gathering where I had made some yummy lasagna. Naturally, I saved some and dropped it off after they returned from the hospital because it was too good to miss!

I remember dropping off the food and immediately wondering what new mother’s ate after birth and where they got their food from. I realized mothers needed food brought to them and not just any food but nutritious food! It prompted a trip down a long rabbit hole where I explored how to create a postpartum food delivery business. I looked into nutrition, holistic health, food handling, business models and much much more.

I held the idea very close to my chest. It felt too precious to share with just anyone. I only told a few of my closest friends in the 2 years I was exploring (i.e., stalling because of imposter syndrome).

Eventually it led me to sign up for a health coach certification. I felt so aligned when I heard about the program, and I was so excited to have joined the cohort and met some students who lived in the Boston area.

I met one student at a Starbucks not too far from me. I remember it was in the evening, after work. We sat down, and she asked what brought me to the program.

Without thinking about it, I shared the story about the lasagna and my idea that I wanted to start after receiving the certification. It was an out-of-body experience as I watched these precious words spill out of my mouth without any filter or hesitation.

I always had an underlying fear if I told anyone, they would take my idea and run with it.

That fear was not realized. Instead, I found myself calmer than when I started that conversation. I didn’t feel any fear or concern over her stealing my idea.

After that, I became more open with sharing stories and ideas. I realized that I could trust others. And I shifted more to an abundance mindset vs. a scarcity one. Something fundamentally changed in me during that conversation although I’m not quite sure what it was exactly.

I do know that I wouldn’t be here without that lasagna.