Free Often Is: Free, that is
Women's History Month - A Look Back

Don't Cry Because It Ended.

By Guest Blogger, Mary Schmidt, Marketing Troubleshooter

"Don't cry because it ended. Smile because it happened." - Dr. Seuss

Actually, we women shouldn't cry at all - at least not in public. Sure, it's great to be in touch with our emotions, but...if you're snuffling into a tissue, you're not projecting a confident, competent image. (For more on such things, see Susan Reid's excellent list, Top Five Mistakes Women Make In Business.)  

Goreonsofa But, having said that - I'm veering in the totally opposite direction (It's Friday, I can do that,  can't I, Yvonne?)  By all means, CRY.  Rant. Scream.  Sit around the house in your underwear and eat ice cream by the gallon...then GET OVER IT!  (Gore photo from one of my all-time favorite Onion articles from 2001.  See? He moved on too...right to a Nobel prize...although methinks he may still be hitting the butterfat pretty heavy...;-)  

It's perfectly fine and healthy to have the occasional pity party - regardless of your sex, in private. One of my friends - when she's having "one of those" days - stays in her jammies, curls up on the sofa and reads a trashy novel cover-to-cover.  No phone calls. No email.  Nothing but immersion into sheer self-indulgence.  Then, the next day, she's back into full world-burner mode. 

Me?  I've thrown myself more than one pity party (with and without consumption of massive amounts of butterfat...) When the Love-Of-My-Life broke my heart into bits, I  had regular parties for months!  I even cried at Kodak commercials, for God's sake!  BUT, I didn't wear my bathrobe to client meetings...;-) and I started channeling all that sad energy into other positive things, including long power walks (albeit, with a few private breaks for heartbroken sobbing deep in the woods.) And, once all the "po' po' pitiful me" navel gazing was over...The LOML is part of some of my all-time BEST memories.  Because of him, a crazy, "madly in love" weekend in Paris happened. So, yes, I smile when I think of him and I will do so until the end of my life. 

When I found out my hard-earned stock in a start-up didn't actually exist (always read that fine, fine print!), there was a very long, sleepless  night of angry ranting and self-recrimination. BUT, I got up the next morning, packed my bags, and flew out to another business meeting (with new opportunities).  And, once I got over losing millions I never really had..there were a lot of positive things to look back on.  So, I smile that it happened.

Everything - good and bad - ends - in both life and business.  So, sure, get the grief out of your system...then learn from your mistakes, remember the good...and move on! 

Now, I've got to move on and get some work done!  Happy Friday. 


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Marita Greenidge

Great post! I tell my friends this all the time - everyone needs their time to complain and cry. Take that time; get it out of your system and then move on!! Too many great things to be done in the world to be wallowing in pity and then taking your pity-covered self to board meetings.

Like Yvonne mentions, you don't suck it up...that's unhealthy (and I see an explosion around the corner). Let it out in private and then go back to the world and let them know how great you are!!!

Holly Buchanan

When the Love-Of-My-Life broke my heart into bits, I had regular parties for months! I even cried at Kodak commercials, for God's sake! BUT, I didn't wear my bathrobe to client meetings...;-)

Ah Mary - you are always quotable.

Good stuff.


Yvonne DiVita

So, so true! Pity parties are allowed, but only for reflection. LIFE GOES ON! And, it even gets better!

Ladies - be true to your principles. This doesn't mean suck it up - like a man. It means understand your purpose in life and that tomorrow is a new day.

Mary will attest to the fact that we ALL - yes, even you -- have closets full of stuff to cry about, but...that closet has a door and when you walk OUT the door, leave the pity scarf behind.

Wear your red high heels and get on with it. Life, that is.

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