Àgbékẹ́ came to see me last week, she was heartbroken. Did she tell you that her relationship with Kúkọ̀yí ended last month? Her usually smiling eyes were filled with poorly concealed sadness, so I asked her if she had cried. But she looked at me like I had two heads.
Àṣàmú, has she cried yet?
I know you are wondering what a strange question this is, but know that it’s for her own good. You have probably told her not to waste her tears over Kúkọ̀yí, but please encourage her to cry. Her tears would not be for him, and she would not be crying for her broken heart. Tell her that a broken heart is a heart that loves and such hearts should not be cried for, instead she would be crying out the brokenness.
Àṣàmú, you see, I had my first heartbreak when I was 20. I didn’t exactly know how to deal with it and not appear weak and pathetic. So, I just kept going, yet it didn’t get easier as I thought it would. And one day, I made a decision to cry and it was a decision I have never regretted.
That day, I discovered the power of a good cry and it has helped me move past many life disappointments. I discovered that when you are disappointed and it hurts so deeply, don’t push back the tears, let it out… give it a good shot, just that once, then get up and move.
So Àṣàmú, tell Àgbékẹ́ to sit or lie down, tell her to cry once but hard. Let her cry out all her pain and sadness, tell her to cry till she feels better. Tell her to then get up, take a bath and eat.
Tell her she will feel much better and lighter. Tell her that’s a promise.