Its Ok To Keep Going, Even Through the Tears
So often, we feel like it’s not okay to feel the way we do after separation. The world seems to shout that we must have it all together. So, on the outside, we put on a brave face — a mask for the world — while at home, we quietly fall apart.
Neither is wrong. These protective behaviours serve us in different ways. The brave face protects us from external judgement. The internal breakdown is where we let it all out. But here’s the part we don’t always see: our children are watching. Not just what we do, but how we respond when life hurts. And they’re learning.
When we cry, which is perfectly okay, what follows matters most. If crying always leads to shutting down, withdrawing, giving up — we may unconsciously teach our children that emotion equals collapse. That when the heart breaks, the body must give out. Of course, we don’t want our children to give up when life gets hard. But sometimes, we model just that — not out of weakness, but out of pain and exhaustion.
I’m not here to blame. I get it. I’ve lived it. And I’m not asking you to change overnight. I’m just asking you to listen.
Imagine this: your little girl is five, and she’s about to race her first bike event. She’s lined up at the start, but she’s scared. The other children shoot off at the gun, and she’s left behind, standing frozen, crying. What do you do?
Some parents might feel embarrassment. Others might encourage from the sidelines. But when you’ve done your own healing — when your nervous system is regulated and your heart is calm — you don’t just shout “you’ve got this” from a distance. You step onto the track beside her.
You kneel down, look into her eyes, and say:
“I know you’re upset. I can see you’re scared. And even though you're crying right now, we can still keep going. We don’t have to stop just because it’s hard.”
You’re not dismissing her feelings. You’re honoring them — and showing her that emotions and action can live side by side. That fear doesn’t have to mean failure. That sadness doesn’t mean she has to stop. You're teaching courage, not by demanding it — but by embodying it.
This is how we build something greater than resilience. We build belief. Strength. Trust. Not just in us as parents, but in themselves.
And it starts with us — by staying emotionally present, even when it’s hard. By showing up, again and again, with steady love and calm words.
Because when our children cry, they don’t always need fixing. They need to know we’re not going to walk away.
And sometimes, the most powerful message we can give is not in words, but in presence. That they’re not alone in this. That they’re safe to feel, and safe to keep going.
I wanted to leave you with the first part of the song from Tarzan You'll be in my heart.
Come stop your crying, it'll be alright
Just take my hand and old it tight
I will protect you , from all around you
I will be here don't you cry
For one so small, you seem so strong
My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm
This bond between us can't be broken
I will be here, don't you cry
'Cause you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on, now and forevermore
Yes you'll be in my heart
No matter what they say
You'll be here in my heart always