These tears are not a show of weakness. They are a show of defiance. They are angry, welling out uncontrollably like the sharp words that accompany it, the glare that tells you I am anything but cowed. I am angry, and by my show of anger I am being subversive. These tears are my sign of strength – that I will not take this lying down, and I will not let the world take it away from me by telling me I am emotional, as if emotion has never been a driver for the bravest of acts. As if apathy ever made a difference.
I will not be ashamed of crying like a girl.