Why I Believe in the Power of a Good Cry

For much of my life, I thought tears were something to manage quietly. I believed I should pull myself together, carry on, and make sure everyone else felt comfortable before I gave myself permission to feel anything fully. Like many women, I became skilled at functioning through exhaustion, grief, disappointment and fear.

Over time, I have learned that crying is not a failure of composure. It can be an honest physical response to an experience that has reached somewhere words cannot. A good cry may arrive after a difficult conversation, during a season of change, or at the end of a day when the smallest thing finally opens the door.

That does not mean every tear solves a problem. Tears do not replace practical support, professional help or meaningful action. They can, however, soften the pressure we carry and help us reconnect with what is happening inside. For me, that emotional release has become part of resilience, self-care and personal growth.

Tears Are A Form Of Emotional Honesty

A cry is often the body’s way of telling the truth before the mind has arranged the facts. We may say that we are fine because the answer is convenient, expected or easier than explaining the whole story. Then our eyes fill, our throat tightens and the feelings we have postponed make themselves known.

I have cried from sadness, certainly, but also from anger, relief, tenderness, exhaustion and joy. Tears can appear when we finally feel safe enough to stop performing strength. They can follow a promotion, a reunion, a goodbye or a moment when someone says precisely what we needed to hear.

This emotional honesty matters because ignored feelings rarely disappear. They may surface as irritability, poor sleep, tension, overthinking or a sense of being permanently stretched. Allowing ourselves to cry can offer useful information: something matters, something hurts, something has changed, or something inside us needs attention.

We do not need to justify every tear. There is value in recognising the feeling without immediately turning it into a lesson or a task. Sometimes the healthiest response is simply to acknowledge, “This is hard,” and give ourselves a little room to breathe.

The Body Knows When Pressure Has Built

Modern life encourages constant output. We move between work, family responsibilities, messages, appointments and decisions, often with very little quiet. Many of us have become so accustomed to being available that we miss the early signs of emotional overload. A tight chest, restless sleep or a short temper may be signals that our nervous system needs care.

Crying can be part of the body’s stress response. When the pressure has accumulated, tears may help create a pause between what has happened and what we do next. The pause is important. It gives us a chance to slow down rather than react from a place of panic, resentment or complete depletion.

There is no need to romanticise this process. Crying is not a magic reset button, and people respond to stress in different ways. Walking, talking, resting, writing, breathing exercises and professional support can all help with emotional regulation. Tears are one possible route towards release, rather than a requirement for healing.

I think of a good cry as an interruption to the performance of coping. It reminds me that I am a human being before I am a broadcaster, author, speaker, colleague, partner or parent. That reminder can be grounding, especially when expectations have begun to feel louder than my own needs.

When Vulnerability Becomes A Source Of Strength

Many women are taught to be emotionally generous while hiding their own difficult feelings. We are expected to care, organise, reassure and keep going. Vulnerability can therefore feel risky, particularly in professional spaces where confidence is sometimes confused with having no visible needs.

Yet vulnerability and weakness are not the same thing. Vulnerability means allowing reality to be seen. It can involve saying that a situation has affected us, asking for support, setting a boundary or admitting that we do not have the answer today. A tear may accompany that honesty, but it does not diminish our authority.

In my work around women’s wellbeing and empowerment, I have seen how powerful it can be when people stop treating their emotions as evidence against them. A woman who understands her feelings can make clearer decisions. She can recognise what drains her, what matters to her and where a pattern needs to change.

Personal growth is often described through achievements and milestones, yet inner progress can be quieter. It may look like grieving an old identity, releasing an impossible standard or choosing self-compassion over self-criticism. The books I return to during those seasons are often the ones gathered in my reflections on personal growth and empowerment, because the right words can help us feel less alone in what we are experiencing.

A Good Cry Needs Safety And Space

The phrase “have a good cry” can sound simple, but the setting matters. We should not be pressured to display emotion for other people’s comfort, nor should we be shamed for keeping our feelings private until we feel safe. Emotional openness is healthiest when it is chosen, not demanded.

A safe space might be a trusted friend’s kitchen, a quiet bedroom, a therapist’s office or a walk where no explanation is required. Sometimes it is the car after an intense meeting, provided we are parked safely. The important element is permission: permission to feel without having to tidy the feeling immediately.

After crying, I try to offer myself basic care rather than criticism. Water, a warm shower, a few slow breaths and a period away from screens can help me come back into the present. If the tears are frequent, distressing or connected to hopelessness, anxiety or trauma, speaking to a qualified professional is a wise and courageous step.

We also need to respect different ways of processing emotion. Some people cry easily; others rarely do. A person can be deeply connected to their feelings without shedding tears, just as someone can cry and still be unsure what they need. Emotional wellbeing is not measured by how visibly we respond.

Letting Emotion Move Without Letting It Lead Everything

There is a balance between suppressing emotion and being ruled by it. Tears can help us recognise what is happening, but we still need to decide what to do with that knowledge. Once the intensity has eased, I find it helpful to ask what the feeling might be pointing towards.

Perhaps I need a conversation, a boundary, more sleep or a change in priorities. Perhaps I need to grieve something I have been pretending not to miss. Perhaps the emotion belongs to an old wound that deserves patient professional support. A cry can open the door, but the next steps are where lasting change often begins.

This is especially relevant during transitions. Career changes, relationship shifts, health concerns and midlife transformations can unsettle our sense of identity. We may mourn who we were while making space for who we are becoming. That process is rarely neat, and tears can be a natural part of releasing an old chapter.

I have written about the importance of building meaning beyond a job title in creating a lasting legacy. The same principle applies emotionally: our worth cannot depend on how efficiently we cope. A life with depth includes feeling, reflection, recovery and the freedom to change direction.

Practical Ways To Honour Your Emotional Health

Crying can be a powerful release, but it becomes more useful when surrounded by habits that support mental wellbeing. We can create small moments in which the body and mind are allowed to come down from constant alertness. These moments do not need to be elaborate or expensive.

A few practices I return to are:

• Name the feeling as accurately as possible, whether it is sadness, anger, fear, relief or exhaustion.
• Give yourself a private, unhurried space where tears can come without apology.
• Contact someone trustworthy if you feel isolated or overwhelmed.
• Follow emotional release with water, rest, gentle movement or nourishing food.
• Seek professional support when distress continues, interferes with daily life or feels unsafe.

It also helps to protect our attention. Endless scrolling can intensify comparison, outrage and emotional fatigue, especially when we are already vulnerable. My thoughts on using social media wisely are rooted in the belief that our digital boundaries are part of our wellbeing boundaries too.

A healthy emotional life is built through repeated acts of listening to ourselves. That may mean turning off the phone, declining an invitation, taking a proper lunch break or allowing a cry without making it embarrassing. Small choices can restore a sense of agency when life has felt too loud.

I believe in the power of a good cry because tears can return us to ourselves. They can acknowledge pain without defining us, soften shame, and make space for the next honest decision. They remind us that resilience is not about remaining untouched; it is about feeling what is real and finding a way to move forward with care.

Through This Girl Is On Fire, my books, broadcasts and speaking work, I continue to champion conversations that make women feel seen rather than judged. If this perspective speaks to where you are now, explore the wider work on women’s wellbeing and empowerment, and bring these honest conversations into your own community, workplace or event.