Can We Stop Apologizing for Crying?

A meditation on emotional autonomy, cultural conditioning, and one unforgettable story.

I think about crying a lot — not because I’m sad, but because I’m fascinated by how we treat sadness. How we treat emotion. How we treat ourselves when our humanity leaks out of our eyes.

One of my favorite coaches, Macie Renae, once told a story about one of her favorite coaches. It’s stayed with me for years.

She was on an airplane, overwhelmed and upset, and she began to cry. Not a polite tear rolling down the cheek — but real crying. Sobbing. The kind of crying that makes your chest shake and your breath catch. The kind of crying that refuses to be tucked neatly into a napkin.

Her partner, embarrassed, leaned over and hissed something like, “Stop crying. Everyone can see you. It’s embarrassing.”

But she didn’t stop. She didn’t shrink. She didn’t apologize.

She let herself cry — fully, openly, unapologetically — even though someone she loved was uncomfortable with her emotional truth. Macie was so proud of her. And I remember thinking: That is emotional sovereignty.

Ever since hearing that story, I notice it everywhere — documentaries, podcasts, social media, conversations with friends. Someone’s voice wavers, tears gather, and immediately:

“I’m sorry.” “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get emotional.”

Sorry for what? For being human? For having a nervous system? For feeling something deeply enough that it shows?

Why do we apologize for crying?

It feels to me like a kind of self‑betrayal — a tiny theft of our own autonomy. As if we’re saying, I shouldn’t be feeling this. I shouldn’t be showing this. I shouldn’t be me right now.

But we have every right to feel our feelings. We have every right to express them. We have every right to exist emotionally in public spaces.

Crying is not a failure of composure. It’s a release valve. It’s a truth-telling mechanism. It’s a physiological response to overwhelm, tenderness, grief, joy, relief, or recognition.

And yet, culturally, we treat it like a breach of etiquette.

The programming runs deep.

We’re taught that crying is messy. That crying is inconvenient. That crying makes other people uncomfortable. That crying is something to hide, manage, or apologize for.

But what if that’s wrong? What if crying is not a disruption, but a declaration? What if it’s not weakness, but honesty?

I think about that coach on the airplane.

How she refused to stifle her emotions just because someone else might witness them. How she chose herself in a moment when she was hurting. How she allowed her body to do what bodies do.

And I think: We need more of that. More emotional permission. More unapologetic truth. More people who let their tears fall without shame.

Crying is not embarrassing. Suppressing yourself is.

When we apologize for crying, we’re not protecting others — we’re abandoning ourselves. We’re reinforcing the idea that our emotions are too much, too loud, too visible, too inconvenient.

I don’t want to live in a world where people feel they must shrink their humanity to make others comfortable.

I want a world where crying is normal. Where crying is allowed. Where crying is respected. Where crying is simply… crying.

So here’s my ask: Can we stop apologizing for it?

Not because crying is noble or poetic or profound — but because it’s natural. Because it’s honest. Because it’s ours.

And because every time someone cries without apologizing, they give the rest of us permission to be human too.