1. HORMONES MAKE TEAR PRODUCTION HARDER FOR MEN, EASIER FOR WOMEN.
Think men don’t cry as often because they’re “strong” or lack emotion? Well, you can’t cry if you don’t have the tears to do it. Before puberty, girls and boys cry in equal amounts, and for pretty much the exact same reasons. When puberty hits and we get our hormones on (testosterone for the fellas and prolactin for ladies), our ability to PRODUCE tears changes. Testosterone may inhibit tear production in men, while prolactin actually makes crying easier (and encourages it) for women. Though the experience of feeling emotion may be exactly the same between the sexes, men’s bodies are simply less likely to produce tears as a response (while women’s bodies may produce them automatically, especially in response to stress). This hormonal difference also means that in situations where men & women BEGIN to cry, men may be able to shut down the reflex more easily, whereas women may have a much harder time holding them back. Women with especially high prolactin levels (preggers, post-preggers, hormonally imbalance like me, etc) may find they can cry almost indefinitely when emotions run high. I call it “leaking”, lol. In general, women are QUEENS of the “good, long cry”. Women may produce more tears than normal when depressed/anxious because of higher levels of tear producing stress hormone.
For men trying to understand a female cry response, it’s kind of like a boner for your eyeballs: sometimes it happens for no reason and you can’t shut it off right away EVEN when you desperately wanna. That’s not to say women are emotionally irrational or somehow unable to function when crying: we just have a physical response to emotion that makes us more likely to express it with tears. Tears (or lack of tears) are also NOT an indicator of depth of feeling or lack of emotion: a man can be devastated and simply be unable to produce tears (or will produce just a few). A woman can be mildly upset or stressed and cry whole heartedly.
Speaking as a transman who has started testosterone, this is absolutely true. I would start crying much more easily pre-t and now it’s damnably hard to start, especially in situations where I just want a good cry like I used to.
“When they made this particular hero, they didn’t give him a gun, they gave him a screwdriver to fix things. They didn’t give him a tank or a warship or an x-wing fighter, they gave him a call box from which you can call for help. And the didn’t give him a superpower or pointy ears or a heat ray, they gave him an extra heart. They gave him two hearts. And that’s an extraordinary thing; there will never come a time when we don’t need a hero like the doctor.”—Steven Moffat (x)
“The moon was gone, but to the magician’s eyes the unicorn was the moon, cold and white and very old, lighting his way to safety, or to madness.”—from The Last Unicorn, by Peter S. Beagle (via cubecumber)
So there’s a Japanese slang term, ‘chuunibyou’, that roughly translates to “Middle School 2nd Year Syndrome.” It is used to describe the stupid phases people go through when they are 14, like pretend to be really hardcore, act like they know everything, say they have mystical powers, etc.
“Men’s rights activists don’t organize marches; they don’t build shelters or raise funds for abused men; they don’t organize prostate cancer-awareness events or campaign against prison rape. What they actually do, when they’re not simply carping in comments online, is target and harass women—from feminist writers and professors to activists—in an attempt to silence them.”—White Hot Rage (via sinshine)
“Courage, the original definition of courage, when it first came into the English language — it’s from the Latin word cor, meaning heart — and the original definition was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.”—Brene Brown (via modernhepburn)
In my experience, writers tend to be really good at the inside of their own heads and imaginary people, and a lot less good at the stuff going on outside, which means that quite often if you flirt with us we will completely fail to notice, leaving everybody involved slightly uncomfortable and more than slightly unlaid.
So I would suggest that any attempted seduction of a writer would probably go a great deal easier for all parties if you sent them a cheerful note saying “YOU ARE INVITED TO A SEDUCTION: Please come to dinner on Friday Night. Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in.”
And alcohol may help, too. Or kissing. Many writers figure out that they’re being seduced or flirted with if someone is actually kissing them.
At dinner my family and I were watching TV and there was a guy on it and I was like “I know him from somewhere!” and I couldn’t figure out where I knew him from and then it that said he was a gay porn star and dinner suddenly became very awkward.
The English “please” is short for “if you please,” “if it pleases you to do this” — it is the same in most European languages (French si il vous plait, Spanish por favor). Its literal meaning is “you are under no obligation to do this.” “Hand me the salt. Not that I am saying that you have to!” This is not true; there is a social obligation, and it would be almost impossible not to comply. But etiquette largely consists of the exchange of polite fictions (to use less polite language, lies). When you ask someone to pass the salt, you are also giving them an order; by attaching the word “please,” you are saying that it is not an order. But, in fact, it is.
In English, “thank you” derives from “think,” it originally meant, “I will remember what you did for me” — which is usually not true either — but in other languages (the Portuguese obrigado is a good example) the standard term follows the form of the English “much obliged” — it actually does mean “I am in your debt.” The French merci is even more graphic: it derives from “mercy,” as in begging for mercy; by saying it you are symbolically placing yourself in your benefactor’s power — since a debtor is, after all, a criminal. Saying “you’re welcome,” or “it’s nothing” (French de rien, Spanish de nada) — the latter has at least the advantage of often being literally true — is a way of reassuring the one to whom one has passed the salt that you are not actually inscribing a debit in your imaginary moral account book. So is saying “my pleasure” — you are saying, “No, actually, it’s a credit, not a debit — you did me a favor because in asking me to pass the salt, you gave me the opportunity to do something I found rewarding in itself!