Why Do We Apologize For Crying?

About a week and a half ago, I had the honor of facilitating a luncheon at Guild Mortgage, where we announced a new community created to support women. Both men and women were in the room — nearly 300 people — ready to connect in a real way.

One of our exercises was simple: affirmation cards.

Each person chose a card — maybe it was the words, the colors, the image, or just a feeling they couldn’t explain. Then, one by one at each table, they read their card out loud and shared why it resonated.

There were 31 tables in that room.

And at many of those tables… tears showed up.

Not because we were trying to make anyone cry. The goal wasn’t emotion — it was connection. The exercise was meant to show how quickly humans bond when we truly listen to each other through curiosity and empathy.

Here’s what’s wild: I’m still hearing from people who attended. They’re telling me about the moment they surprised themselves when tears started rolling while they were listening to someone else’s story… and feeling emotions from their own life rise up at the same time.

And almost every time, people mention the same thing:

They apologized for crying.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I’m emotional.”

“This is embarrassing.”

So let’s talk about it.

Many of us grew up hearing “dry it up” or “stop crying,” even if our parents meant well. Somewhere along the way, we learned: tears are inconvenient… or weak… or something to hide.

But tears aren’t weakness.

They’re nervous system language.

When something touches us — grief, relief, overwhelm, gratitude our body isn’t just “being emotional.” It’s processing. And a big part of that processing runs through the vagus nerve, the main pathway of your parasympathetic nervous system (the part that helps you downshift from stress into safety).

Sometimes tears are your system’s way of discharging what it’s been holding.

So instead of judging the tears, try supporting your body while they move.

One simple somatic release for the moment you feel tears rising:

The Vagus Nerve Exhale + Hum (30 seconds):

1. Inhale gently through your nose for 4 seconds.

2. Exhale slowly for 6–8 seconds (longer exhale tells the body, “we’re safe”).

3. At the end of the exhale, hum softly for 5–10 seconds (a low “mmm” is perfect).

That hum creates vibration in the throat area where the vagus nerve runs, and it can help your body settle while the emotion releases—without you feeling like you have to shut it down.

If you want something even more subtle in a room full of people, do this:

• Press your feet into the floor.

• Relax your jaw.

• Let your shoulders drop one inch.

• Keep the long exhale.

That’s it. Tiny cues, big impact.

Because crying doesn’t mean you’re breaking.

It’s releasing.

Cry when you’re sad.

Cry when you’re overwhelmed.

Cry when you’re happy.

Cry when you’re mad.

Cry when you’re hurt.

You don’t owe anyone an apology for being human.

So the next time tears show up, try swapping “I’m sorry” for this:

“Something about this matters to me.”

And if you need a mantra to give yourself permission in real time…

Let it go. Let it flow.

P.S. If you're looking for more support right now, be sure to explore my Resources Page or learn more about Living LIT Memberships, where I share tools and practices to help you feel more grounded, connected, and supported.