The floor of every bathroom in Glenbrook North has felt the warm salt of my tears. Those tiles have watched me spiral, but they have seen some of my best days too.
During my sophomore year, the bathroom all the way out by the fieldhouse was my go-to. My mom was very sick at the time, and that bathroom was a safe haven where I would run to when my emotions became too overwhelming or when I would get into a fight with my family over text. It was also where I embraced my friends when I got a personal record distance in shot put. Whatever the occasion, those stalls saw it all.
My junior year was by far my most miserable. I spread myself too thin between my academics and extracurriculars and ended up crying about it in the bathroom near the publications room. Tears poured down my cheeks in the nurses’ office after I tore my ACL. I revisited my old stomping grounds by the fieldhouse when I had to sit and watch track meets I could not compete in. The bathroom by the main entrance saw my tears of joy when I was finally able to walk without crutches again.
By senior year, I was back in the bathroom by the publications room after a squabble with a friend. The science bathroom watched me find out about many college acceptances. The bathroom up by my French classroom watched me cry with excitement when I found out I would be throwing for the track and field team in college. So many happenings, so many tears.
As I reflect back on my time in high school, these years truly were a roller coaster of emotion, but hey, that is normal. It is normal to cry. I view crying as healthy because it has always helped me alleviate my pain. Even though the stigma around crying is that it is a sign of weakness, I would argue that it makes you stronger. I am one of the strongest people I know, and not just because I enjoy lifting. I am strong because no matter how many times life tries to knock me down, I will not let it. I will not fall. I credit this in part to all the tears I have shed. Each one makes me stronger. I am able to be resilient because I do not bottle up my tears.
As I move into the next chapter of my life, I will continue to cry when I need to, whether I am happy or sad. I encourage everyone else to do so as well. Crying is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of incredible strength. I just hope that there is a really nice bathroom in my future for me to shed some tears in from time to time.