Tonight I cried for the first time in front of my daughter. It came from a discussion of what is, of what could be, of what may not come to pass. It was a rare time of opening up to her, being honest on a level we have not previously reached.
The tears started and I tried to hold them back, as I had so many times before, but I couldn’t any more, and despite my fears of being judged, of alienating her, of being seen as weak, she understood. There were no useless platitudes, no judgement, just a sharing of a pain and a sadness that shouldn’t be borne alone.
It was a brief discussion, no more than twenty minutes, but that’s all that was needed. It doesn’t lighten the load, nor stop the mind from whirring, but it helps to be heard and understood, it helps to know you are loved in your darkest moments, and isn’t that what we all want? To be loved To be understood and accepted for who we are, faults and all? To be told that we are not alone? To be reminded that what we often see as weakness is actually part of our strength?
So the tears stopped hours ago and I still feel their sting, but I do know this, come what may, we are not as alone as we believe ourselves to be.