This Is Not Like You, AY.

I cried in front of a white man yesterday morning.

What the FUCK is going on with her? (you might ask, or I am still asking myself...)

And I mean, this wasn't just any white man. He is my externship supervisor and an extraordinary therapist, I must say. (As was evidenced in my weekly supervision.)

Does it matter what I cried about? A little.
Does it matter who I cried to? Maybe.
Does it matter that I cried? HELL YES!

I will say that I tried, for at least 30 damn minutes, to hold the tears back, to look in a different direction, to talk about an aspect of the subject that didn't make me feel inadequate, incompetent, petty, unprofessional...but this man is GOOD! He really and truly, and quite aware to me at the time, conducted a therapy session.

Am I comfortable with this? No. Am I against the process that we went through for 60 minutes? Not at all.

Crying=Vulnerable.
Crying=Weak.
Crying=Bitch
Crying=Pussy Ass.
Crying=Wack.

So, as I've learned during my life, I try not to cry. Because I need to show that world that I'm this strong black woman, professional, unemotional, neva-let-no-nigga-or-bitch-see-me-sweat, type of female. And I usually succeed. HOWEVA, since being in a relationship, THIS relationship, crying is so necessary. Crying became special to me. Crying was warranted, on every occasion that I did it. Crying let him know, and me know, that this is real, that this is serious, that this needs to be handled.

Now what did crying teach me yesterday with my supervisor?

That I can be emotional. That I'm allowed to react to things. That my clients are not the only important people in the room who are processing the effects of trauma, abuse, and mental illness (among other things). That I hold emotion strongly. That yes, I'm grown, and I'm professional, but that doesn't mean that I'm invisible and stoic.

That I'm human. And that everything in my last post is so real and so true to me, that I should have cried earlier. That I've been punishing myself by not crying, not breaking down, not questioning my ability to hold myself and 8 clients up...

That I'm about to be a "bomb ass psychologist" (as quoted by one of my clients).