A father’s tears | The Press

I saw my father cry of sadness three times.

When he was packing his bags to leave the house, breaking up.

When he told me he stole my youth with his incurable cancer.

When he said goodbye to my friends at the hospital.

I often saw him cry with laughter, on the other hand. Sometimes even wearing a skirt at the grocery store because my brother and I challenged her…

You will understand that my father was not exactly the incarnation of the man imprisoned by masculinity. Yet he struggled to be vulnerable.

Crying laughing, absolutely. Howl in despair, frustration or shame, very little, thank you.

This is probably why the testimonials relayed on the Instagram account “The box of tears” touch me so much. They portend a change of mentality.

Men recount the last time they cried. Whether it’s after a couple’s fight, losing their job, hugging their father or thinking about their daughter’s future…

By putting forward these brief anonymous accounts, the founder of the account hopes to help men to “heal each other [et] learn positive masculinity”. Because it is recent, the process that led Francis-William Rhéaume to come to terms with his tears. He’s eight years old, actually. The age of her child.

“I remember that in kindergarten, I cried thinking of a nightmare in which my mother was dying, he tells me. The teacher told me that we don’t cry about that. A lot of gentle violence occurs in the life of a boy and invites him to keep his pain inside or to cry in secret… I had a relaxation when my girlfriend gave birth. I was just crying in the hallway! The arrival of a child is great! It makes you cry. Just like the dream of the nuclear family that farts. When I separated from my daughter’s mother, psychotherapy allowed me to get out of cynicism to return to emotions. I learned to live them and to name them. »

When I called the sociologist Jean-Philippe Pleau to sound him out on the evolution of fathers and their tears, he told me precisely about the growing place of psychology in our society. According to him, we owe him a certain liberation.

“The relationship to tears has been transformed thanks to her… My best friend died three years ago. I cried for weeks and didn’t have to justify myself in front of my children. This same situation telescoped 30 or 40 years ago would have been experienced in secret. »

Moreover, 20 years ago, Jean-Philippe Pleau began a doctorate in sociology on the social representation of parents in children’s literature. Back then – not so long ago! –, the works were still very stereotyped: “As soon as it was a question of empathy, it was the mother who entered the scene, he recalls. If I started this doctorate again today, the corpus would be completely different! »

Dads cry, wash and care for their little ones, in contemporary books.

“The representation of men has changed in popular culture, also believes Francis-William Rhéaume, who underlines the important contribution of feminist and queer struggles in the transformation of virility. He’s closer to his emotions, but there’s still work to be done. »

Jean-Philippe Pleau, for example, tells me about these pediatric care centers always called “Mother-Child Centers”. Would a father who would like to admit to it on edge feel that this is the place to do it? And paternity leave, presented as “a great opportunity to create a bond of attachment”… Does it really allow fathers to become fully involved in three to five weeks? Why not imitate France and the Scandinavian countries, which offer breaks of several months?

It takes a certain comfort to cry in front of your children. This abandonment, it is built. And its effects are infinitely beneficial.

“It shows that vulnerability is not only possible, but that it is not pejorative, believes Jean-Philippe Pleau. Even today, I sometimes cry thinking of my deceased friend. My son remembers him, it touches him too. We’re doing mileage on this together. My tears give him access to his. I couldn’t have imagined doing that with my dad. »

Bequeath the right to sensitivity. What a beautiful gift.

Francis-William Rhéaume sees in his tears a “small political gesture”, a snub to the model of virility imposed on many men. It’s also a way of showing her daughter that every human lives through emotions and that the discomfort that others may feel has nothing to do with her… That she doesn’t necessarily have to bear the weight of guilt or care.

“Sometimes I’m alone with my daughter and I go to cry in my room. I want her to know that she doesn’t need to “parent” me. I tell him that it will last five minutes and that I will come back fresh. I remember the tension aroused by my father when he was sad and he turned it into aggression…”

He lets out a short silence. Just long enough for memories of my own childhood to come to mind.

“Deep down, I guess it’s cool to hear that your dad needs to cry and you had nothing to do with it…”

There are probably many of us who can imagine it, yes.

Don’t look for me for the next few Sundays, I’ll be taking long naps, enjoying the dead calm of the holidays and thinking about everything I can tell you next August… Because then I’ll have the honor to return to The Press ! Moreover, thank you for your many emails, good words and encouragement over the past few months. It’s nice chatting with you.