Man up and cry already

High functioning humans know the importance of crying

There is a strange paradox in the way we talk about strength. We praise resilience, encourage emotional intelligence, and increasingly acknowledge the importance of mental health. Yet one of the most basic human responses to distress—crying—still carries a quiet stigma. It is tolerated in children, reluctantly accepted in women, and often ridiculed in men. The phrase “don’t cry” is practically a reflex in our culture, offered as if tears are a failure of character rather than a biological function.

But science tells a very different story. Crying is not weakness. It is one of the body’s most effective built-in systems for regulating emotional stress. If you want to be a high functioning human or truly be present in your life, you have to learn to cry.

Human tears are not all the same. Scientists distinguish between three types: basal tears, reflex tears, and emotional tears. Basal tears constantly lubricate the eyes. Reflex tears appear when something irritates them—like smoke or an onion. Emotional tears, however, are unique. They occur in response to psychological states such as grief, frustration, joy, or overwhelming relief. And unlike other tears, emotional tears contain measurable concentrations of stress hormones and neurochemicals.

Researchers have found that emotional tears contain elevated levels of adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH), a key stress hormone involved in the body’s stress response. Some scientists believe crying may help remove or regulate stress-related chemicals circulating in the body. In that sense, tears function almost like a pressure valve for the nervous system. When emotional tension builds beyond what the brain can comfortably process, crying becomes one of the ways the body discharges that load.

The sense of relief people often describe after a good cry is not imagined. Crying activates the parasympathetic nervous system—the part responsible for calming the body after stress. After the initial surge of emotion, heart rate slows, breathing deepens, and the nervous system gradually shifts back toward equilibrium.

It also appears to trigger the release of oxytocin and endorphins—chemicals associated with bonding, pain relief, and emotional comfort. These are the same molecules involved in social connection and soothing touch. That is why crying in the presence of someone safe can feel especially relieving. It is not just emotional expression; it is biology facilitating recovery.

Yet despite this built-in therapeutic mechanism, our culture has spent generations teaching people to suppress it.

Nowhere is that pressure stronger than for men.

From childhood, many boys learn that tears are incompatible with masculinity. Phrases like “man up,” “boys don’t cry,” and “be tough” quietly shape emotional behavior long before adulthood. Over time, these messages create a learned reflex: emotional distress must be contained, redirected, or hidden.

The result is not emotional strength—it is emotional congestion.

I know this instinct well. As a teenager, I tried to control my tears with almost scientific precision. They would come randomly and sporadically, but I was determined to manage the timing of them. If I felt them building, I would hold them back until I could be alone. I remember trying to schedule my own emotional release—telling myself, not here, not now, wait until you’re by yourself. I worked so hard to contain it. But I have never not been a tearful person. I carried a lot of trauma and stress growing up, and those emotions had to go somewhere. Crying was the only real exit as I didn’t have much autonomy at that point in my life.

Something interesting happened later in life. As I entered medicine—and with it the steady rhythm of stress that comes with caring for other people—I stopped trying so hard to suppress it. The tears come more readily now, sometimes at completely random times. A sad commercial comes on and suddenly I’m tearing up. A minute of genuine sobs, and then it’s gone. Completely gone. Because I no longer fight it, the crying itself is shorter. It arrives, does its job, and passes through like a brief storm.

Psychologists studying gender differences in emotional expression consistently find that men report crying far less often than women. But they do not report feeling less sadness, grief, or stress. The emotions still exist; they simply have fewer socially acceptable outlets.

This suppression comes at a cost. Studies link emotional inhibition in men with higher rates of depression, substance use, and even cardiovascular strain. When emotional signals are consistently blocked, they often reappear in other forms: irritability, anger, burnout, or physical symptoms.

Tears are not the problem. The inability to release them might be.

Ironically, the cultural ideal of stoicism often produces the very fragility it aims to avoid. Emotional suppression forces the brain to expend cognitive resources maintaining control over feelings that are trying to surface. Over time, that constant effort can increase psychological strain. (Don’t even get me started on the tangent of how this contributes to increased rate of intimate partner violence, but yes that is real).

Crying, by contrast, is efficient. It allows the brain to process intense emotion rather than store it indefinitely.

There is also a social dimension to tears that science increasingly recognizes. Crying acts as a signal to others that support is needed. Evolutionary psychologists argue that emotional tears may have developed partly to communicate vulnerability and elicit empathy from others. Humans are profoundly social creatures, and crying can strengthen interpersonal bonds by inviting comfort and connection.

In other words, tears are not only self-regulating—they are relational.

Of course, none of this means a person should manufacture sadness or wallow in despair. Crying is not valuable because suffering is desirable. It is valuable because it is a healthy response when suffering inevitably appears. Life guarantees moments of loss, frustration, exhaustion, and grief. Crying is one of the ways the body metabolizes those experiences.

Suppressing it is like refusing to exhale.

The strange thing is that most people intuitively know this. Almost everyone has experienced the quiet clarity that follows a deep cry—the way the mind feels lighter, the body less tense, the emotions less tangled. It is not a cure for life’s problems, but it often creates the space needed to face them.

So perhaps the cultural message needs to be flipped.

Instead of “don’t cry,” let’s say: cry when you need to. Cry freely. Cry without apology.

And if you are a man who has spent years hearing that tears undermine your strength, consider the possibility that the opposite may be true.

Real toughness is not the ability to feel nothing. It is the willingness to feel everything and still keep moving forward.

If that journey occasionally requires tears, then the most honest form of masculinity might be this:

Man up.

And cry.

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A note on the science for those who are nerds like me:

One of the earliest and most cited studies was conducted by biochemist Dr. William H. Frey II at the Tear Research Center in Minnesota.

Frey analyzed the chemical composition of different types of tears and found that emotional tears contained higher concentrations of stress-related hormones than reflex tears (like the kind produced when cutting onions). These included:

• Adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH)

• Cortisol

• Prolactin

These hormones are all involved in the body’s stress-response system.

ACTH in particular is part of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis, the central hormonal pathway that activates during stress and triggers the release of cortisol.

Because emotional tears contain these molecules, Frey proposed that crying may function as a biological mechanism for eliminating stress chemicals from the body.

Crying does not only release stress chemicals — it also activates calming ones.

Research shows emotional crying can stimulate the release of:

• Oxytocin – associated with bonding and emotional safety

• Endorphins – the body’s natural pain relievers

These chemicals help reduce both physical and emotional pain, which is one reason people often report feeling calmer after crying.

Scientifically speaking, crying is not just emotional expression.

It is a neurochemical regulation process that can:

• release stress hormones

• activate calming neurochemicals

• shift the nervous system back toward equilibrium

• facilitate emotional recovery

In other words, when people say “I needed a good cry,” that isn’t just metaphor.

It’s physiology.

Sources:

• Frey, W. H. (1985). Crying: The Mystery of Tears. (The foundational text on the biochemistry of tears).

• Gračanin, A., Vingerhoets, A. J., & Bylsma, L. M. (2014). Crying benefits: A review. Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology. (Analysis of the self-soothing effects).

• Vingerhoets, A. J. (2013). Why Only Humans Weep: Unravelling the Mysteries of Tears. (A comprehensive look at the evolutionary reasons for crying).

  If you’re new here, I’m Dr. Landon Eggleston, a board certified emergency medicine physician in Chicago. Clear View explores health and wellness through the lens of someone who interacts with life and death daily- offering a grounded perspective on what it truly means to make the most of your one wild and precious life. If you are looking for where to start, start here. If you want to read more, here’s what I’ve been working on recently: organization tools that were instrumental in my own success, what truly matters at the end of life, why high functioning humans are the loneliest. the kindness of boundaries, and insight into seasonal depression. If you feel called to live with more clarity, intention, and courage, this space is for you. Subscribe for free to receive new posts and join the conversation.