stillbecoming.studio

I am back at my computer after a long break. I was just about to finish the second part of my post on Vietnam when my eyes caught a woman sitting on the other side of the glass window in the same place, also working on her laptop.

She couldn’t hold back her tears; she was crying silently, but as far as I could see, so beautifully. Her tears were pouring out nonstop. She was clearly caught off guard—no tissues anywhere—trying to wipe away the tears covering her face with her bare hands.

It was literally a silent cry, yet so loud. Whatever happened to her seems to have deeply hurt her. She’s texting on WhatsApp; it looks like something work-related or maybe a breakup story. But let me not jump to conclusions—it could be something completely different.

I watched her quietly for minutes without her noticing. As she cried, her slumping shoulders dropped even lower, as if she was physically shrinking. Her whole body was adapting to her tears. She wasn’t just crying with her eyes, but truly with her entire being.

After a while, she calmed down. Her shoulders straightened, and the peace of being able to cry showed on her face. She gathered her strength back, wearing an expression that said, “Whatever it is, I’ll get through it,” and went right back to whatever she was doing.

As for me, sitting where I was, I got completely hung up on this idea of crying freely. Naturally, I didn’t envy her pain, but I envied her ability to cry. Out loud, uncalculated, sincere, right from the heart, with her whole being. Unashamed of her surroundings, not caring about anyone watching, just as she felt inside. I tried to remember when I last cried like that.

All those losses, life shifts, pain, shocks… It feels like I’ve been draining my tears inward. Or has my heart turned to stone? I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I need a long, good cry that clears me out right to my core.

Crying is a liberating act in itself. It’s like a magic wand that lights up all the darkness inside, lightens every heavy load, and somehow makes your eyes look even more beautiful. But the more I want to cry and feel the need to, the more my tears seem to run away from me.

Whatever the reason—sadness or joy—when people can cry, they go back to their purest state. While crying was so easy and natural in our childhood, in adulthood it takes focus, concentration, and almost some planning.

A few weeks ago, on one of those nights I spent in my childhood home, a few tears seemed to visit me from among the memories. But they just waved a quick peek-a-boo hello and darted off. Yet, what if we just hung out for a couple of hours, paused, started over again? Just like that, for no reason, or using life as a simple side dish… Wouldn’t that be nice?

Just like Sezen Aksu says: 

Crying is beautiful. 

Crying in this fleeting world means, 

Despite everything, being alive…

For now, let my tears keep hiding from me—so be it. I’ve already etched that lightness on the woman’s face behind the glass window into my mind. One day, when I can cry again without holding back, pouring it all out, my heart will lighten too, and my eyes will brighten up.

“It’s not like my tears have left me for good, right? :)”

With love, 

Nazan

PS: Sezen Aksu is one of Turkey’s most iconic female singers. I strongly suggest reading the translated lyrics in English while listening to the song after reading this post.

If These Piece had a Color : It would be ”Bright White”.

If These Piece had a Song : It would be ”Ağlamak Güzeldir from Sezen Aksu ”. https://open.spotify.com/track/3U5JVgI2x4rDyHGObzJfNf?si=f9047821d23d42ac

If These Piece had a Scent : It would be the scent of iodine.