Just after the 2024 Olympics, I read an article in a publication called ‘The Atlantic’ which was titled The Crybaby Olympics by Christopher Beam. I now can’t open it without a subscription, but I took a copy of the article’s tagline:
“Sports have always had sore losers. But based on this year’s Games, athletes seem to be getting worse at losing well.”
The article outlined all the shrieking and wailing, lashing out, and refusal to shake hands that went on, and lamented that this failed moment of international coming-togetherness (and “being a good sport”) might be a sign of the times. Off the top of my head, it listed reasons for the increase in bad behavior, including higher than ever expectations related to relentless media coverage, sponsorship deals, financial incentives, the rise of influencers, and many more thoroughly modern concerns that might be overriding more traditional behavior associated with losing with grace.
It got me thinking.
First of all – weirdly, ok – how long has the phrase ‘crybaby’ been around? It’s a phrase that is super intuitive, but is it a new or ancient saying? According to an etymology website, the phrase is American English and dates back to 1851 and has always been an insult for someone who cries too much or too easily.
Second – given that the phrase is essentially mean-spirited, should we really be calling anyone a crybaby? According to the LifeHacker website (admittedly only talking about children), the answer is NO. We should respect that everyone feels their emotions to a different degree; some more than others. Instead of putting ’emotional’ people down, the article encourages us to support them through their grief and frustration… and then, it seems, help them to cry a bit less by learning how to be resilient and breathe through the moment.
Third – if being a crybaby is a matter of crying too much or too easily due to loss… what happens for people who suffer from chronic pain… are WE crybabies if we struggle with our pain, or articulate that struggle? The definition doesn’t seem to acknowledge that there might be a contextual reason for the crying, or accept that sometimes crying might be merited. By extending the above LifeHacker article, it would seem that when it comes to chronic pain criers you shouldn’t mock us… support us instead… but also encourage us to find ways to grow out of it.
I feel conflicted.
That sort of advice leans a bit too heavily into all the gendered rubbish that floats around about feelings being a weakness, especially tears. On the other hand, I’ve written before about feeling sorry for yourself, and accept that there’s a time and place for losing your sh!t because of personal grief, and that losing a game of handball isn’t really one of those ‘acceptable’ situations.
But who gets to decide what is an acceptable reason to cry?
+ Is the realization that my life will never be the same again due to my medical diagnosis a loss worthy of tears?
+ Is losing my job to chronic illness an acceptable reason to cry?
+ Is the fact that I can’t drive a car anymore at night-time reasonable?
+ Is missing out on my daughter’s soccer grand final due to a migraine a good enough reason to feel sad?
+ What about losing the opportunity to go to a friend’s party due to a sudden pain attack?
I suspect that for each of you there was a mental ticking and crossing going on as you were reading the list. (“Losing your job is bad but missing a party for goodness sake… pity-party much!!”)
I know for myself the conditions for grief change from circumstance to circumstance, day to day. Perhaps I can miss a dozen events, but it’s the 13th that packs a punch because of who it was for, where it was, or just the fact that it’s the 13th event I’ve been unlucky enough to miss.
Greif after loss is such a personal thing. Disappointment too.
As with so many of my posts (sorry) this one doesn’t have any answers.
But, I guess my advice is feel what you feel, and don’t judge yourself, or each other too harshly.
Take care taking care, Linda x
PS – being odd as I am, I went looking to see if Shakespeare had an equivalent term for ‘crybaby’. I found a website that has 55 other insults (here), including “More of your conversation would infect my brain” (Coriolanus (Act 2, Scene 1)), but nothing that related to being a sook. I did, however, also find a “translator” that turns modern language into olde worlde Shakespeare talk. “I am not ashamed to be a chronic pain crybaby” turns into “I am not asham’d to be’est a chronic anguish crybaby”. So, with that: “may we all learneth to be’est graceful losers who art also empathetic of each other’s anguish”. L xx
The Mindful Migraine 
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