Poling Chan, MSW, LCSW

The Primal Language of Tears

by Poling Chan MSW, LCSW

August 24, 2024

Some clients tear up before even warming up their seats. It is as if they can’t wait to unload their heavy pack during a treacherous journey. Sometimes tears are followed by apologies by those who are excessively worried about burdening their therapist. I often sit and watch quietly, sometimes debating if I should offer the tissues, which in some instances, gives the erroneous message that I would like them to wipe off the tears and shut the crying down. Some clients even worry if they have consumed all my tissues, feeling terrible for “taking up space”, or “ using everything up”

And then other times, some may come in with such a freeze in their body, while sharing the most gut-wrenching grief. Some might say “I wish I could cry, but I have no tears”. Such numbness permeates the body, blocking the emotions rising to the surface. Some clients might not feel safe to cry in their past. This calm facade embedded in learned helplessness takes much patience to work through.

And then there is another type of client that measures their progress by their lack of tears. They say, “I can’t believe I am still crying over this! What’s wrong with me?” ; “ I wish I could come in without balling”; “I need to move on; I can’t keep crying”. They are terrified to open the gate of emotions, worried about letting in the flood to their nervous system. I listen to their fears, self-loathing and constraint. Sometimes such belief turns into a chronic condition of seemingly “making progress” by suppressing feeling. They need to be held in safety first and learn the skill of containment, not denial. Tears aren’t in the way. Rather they are streams, helping us to move through.

There are times that my eyes are wallowed with tears as well . Needless to say, I am a human being long before becoming a therapist, touched by the narratives of suffering and the courage to tell. Some clients shift to take care of me, worry that by bringing tears to my eyes, they have committed a cardinal sin. To that I gently appreciate their care and move our attention back to them. Burden is supposed to be shared. It is an honor to be trusted and be touched.

In fact, tears are our mother tongue, our most primal native language. We know that a baby is okay when they can actually let out a cry upon birth. They are then soothed to calm in the warm arms of their caregiver, to learn that their humanity is being held and listened to. This lays the foundation of communication: the wonderful loop of expressing the body and feeling another warm body that responds. This is human birthright.

Give yourself permission, I say. Weep as long as you need, cry as loud as you will. It is like that wonderful exhale that releases the tension, the sweat that comes to cool you off when your body is overheated. The therapy room is your container, while the therapist, without judgement, bears witness to your suffering that manifests with streams of sorrow.