I Laughed and Then I Cried

I Laughed and Then I Cried

How bizarre is it that a moment of pure joy could result in a barrage of tears? Especially, when there’s no reason for it. I wasn’t particularly sad about anything in that moment. In fact, I’ve finally rested after quite some time and laughed so openly. Yet, immediately upon recognizing that level of happiness I broke into tears. 

As I think about it, it might have been the fact that I get to be so openly happy because I’m free. There was a time and a place where I was terrified to openly express how I was feeling or to express the extent I felt something because it wasn’t accepted. I wasn’t accepted. Because of that, I held back my laughter. I held back my smiles. I held back my love. I held back the best of what I had to offer the world because the people who should have loved it the most were the ones that didn’t want it and reprimanded me for it. If I laughed too hard, I was told I was being fake. If I smiled too big, I was being too childish. If I loved too much, with compliments and hugs, I was trying too hard. The people that I put my love and trust in, and were supposed to love and accept me, were the same people that didn’t want me to be who I was, as I was.

It was like being trapped in my own body. A slave in my home already, and now a slave in my body. People often forget that freedom is not just the ability to move in the world with your own intentions. It is also the ability to live true to who you are. The moment others try and succeed in controlling the way you are, you are enslaved to their perspective of how you should be. This is similar to being enslaved to a place they determine you should be in. The difference is that if you’re confined to a space, you can still be yourself in that space. If you’re confined to a way of thinking and being, there is no room for your true self to exist. It is something I liken to being murdered while you’re still alive. It is such an unfortunate way to live, to know you’re dead inside, but all the while being able to watch life continue to play out from the confines of your seemingly living body. 

The worst part is, you don’t fully realize that you’re dead because you’re technically still moving. You’re going about the world, living it the way your oppressors want you to. You’re doing the things you’re supposed to do, all the while knowing this is not your life. You’re not living it. You’re just observing it. A fate worse than death is living a life completely out of your control. It makes you wonder why you’re still alive at all. Why do they keep you alive? Why is this acceptable? Do they not realize that they killed you already? And yet they don’t. They continue living and acting and believing that you’re happy in this life, the way they are. Yes, they are happy, even though they know they’ve murdered every ounce of your being except your physical presence.

Maybe that’s why when I catch myself feeling things freely or recognize a moment where I’m doing something I couldn’t before, it overwhelms me. I feel all of the things I kept inside during my enslavement. I feel all the pain that I didn’t express or share. I unwillingly remember that the person I was had died, and the person I am now is my chance to live. I’m alive. I’m alive, not just because I am breathing and moving, but because I’m moving through life as me. I’m making my choices. I’m laughing as largely and as loudly as I do. I’m smiling as broadly and as childishly happy as I do. And I’m loving, as openly and repeatedly as only I can and do. I’m sharing my truest self with the world every day because I get to be alive and be me, and that’s the most freeing thing I can choose to do and be. 

So, yes, I cry when I feel overwhelmingly happy because I recall my death and it makes me grateful that I’m alive. I am alive and I am finally, freely me.


I laughed
Then I cried
And at first
I didn’t know why
The past had came forth
And it made me feel
All the pain I’d hidden
The pain that made me keel

I had died once
I was no longer here
Everyone saw me
But didn’t see my fear
My fear to be me
My fear to live
All because they controlled me
Controlled the me I could give

What a way to be
Alive and yet dead
Seeing it all
Yet nothing could be said
I stayed confined
Physically and inside
Moving as they wanted
Not a thought could be mine

They had taken everything
Every ounce of my life
Leaving a shell, a puppet
Just a thing without life
I was truly dead
Moving, but not there
Showing a smile
And hiding the dread

Now when I’m free
I know what that means
I get to be alive
I get to be me
I make my choices
I make my mistakes
I choose my life
One I’m free to make

– Akiti –