When Happy Tears Fall: A Quiet Superpower
I’ve always been a crier.
Not just at funerals or heartbreaks — but at weddings, during movies, over compliments, in moments of gratitude, even watching fictional characters find their way back to each other. I cry when others are happy. I cry when good fortune finally finds someone who’s struggled. I cry when life’s goodness shows up unexpectedly, tender and fragile.
It’s not sadness. It’s something deeper. Something harder to explain.
For a long time, my family didn’t understand this about me. They weren’t touched or moved by my tears — they were frustrated. Embarrassed, even. My daughter would roll her eyes. The rest of the family would sigh or scoff, as if my emotions were an inconvenience. I was the “overly emotional one,” and not in a way anyone said kindly.
But here’s what I’ve come to understand, and maybe what you need to hear if you feel the same:
Crying over happy moments isn’t a flaw. It’s a quiet superpower.
When we cry at happiness, it’s not just joy we’re feeling — it’s everything that came before it. The fear. The longing. The ache of wanting something good so badly it hurt. And when the good finally arrives, our hearts know how much it cost. They know how rare and precious it is.
Happy tears are reverence.
They’re the body's way of bowing to the miracle of survival, of hope fulfilled, of beauty after hardship.
If you’ve lived a life where happiness wasn’t guaranteed, where good things had to be fought for or waited on longer than you thought you could bear, then you understand: joy is not a small thing. It’s a hard-won thing. And when it comes, it deserves to be felt with your whole heart.
People who don’t understand your tears aren’t bad people — they may just be armored. Closed off. Maybe they don’t know how to feel that much. Maybe feeling that much scares them. It’s easier for them to brush it off than to open up.
But you? You stayed soft.
You stayed open. Even when it made you the odd one out. Even when it got you labeled “too sensitive” or “overly emotional.”
The truth is: you are neither of those things.
You are human.
You are alive to the beauty of things.
And that is no small gift.
A few nights ago, I found myself crying while watching a scene from Castle — Ryan and Esposito had just been saved from a fire, and Ryan's wife, who had just had their baby, thought he was gone. And then, there he was. Alive. Safe. Reunited. They were all so happy — and I sat there, crying for fictional characters because it was everything: fear, loss, relief, joy, love, life. All wrapped up in a moment that my heart recognized as something worth weeping over.
Even in the everyday, it happens. Once, while doing my usual meandering through every aisle of the grocery store, I spotted a package of heart of palm linguine on a lower shelf. I froze. I teared up. Because it wasn't just pasta — it was a reminder of a different time. Of a Brazilian steakhouse visit I would never have dared to try without the encouragement of someone from my past who introduced me to foods I never would have discovered on my own. Seeing that package wasn't just a food memory. It was gratitude, nostalgia, and a silent thank-you to all the winding paths that brought good things into my life, even if the people themselves didn’t stay.
You see, sometimes we cry because we know what it’s like to almost lose. To almost miss out. And sometimes, because against all odds, something sweet and unexpected finds its way to us.
So if you’re someone who cries at the happy moments — keep crying. Keep honoring the weight of goodness when it arrives. Let your tears remind the world (and yourself) that being human is not about getting through life untouched — it’s about being moved.
It’s about feeling it all.
It’s about surviving the hard parts and still being soft enough to weep when something wonderful finally finds its way to you.
And if no one ever told you this before, let me tell you now:
There’s nothing wrong with you.
You, my friend, have a beautiful superpower.
🌴Heart of Palm Linguine with Avocado Cream Sauce, Crispy Spiced Chickpeas, and Herb-Seared Fish
Because sometimes, even a simple thing like pasta made from heart of palm can remind you how far you’ve come — and how beautiful it is that you’re still here, still feeling, still moved.
Ingredients:
For the Pasta & Sauce:
1 package heart of palm linguine
1 ripe avocado
1–2 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon Greek yogurt (optional for extra creaminess)
2 tablespoons olive oil (plus extra for warming pasta)
Salt and pepper, to taste
For the Crispy Chickpeas:
1 can chickpeas, drained, rinsed, and dried well
1 tablespoon olive oil
½ teaspoon smoked paprika
½ teaspoon ground cumin
Salt and pepper, to taste
For the Fish:
2 fillets white fish (such as cod, tilapia, or flounder)
1 tablespoon butter
2–3 sprigs fresh thyme (or a pinch of dried thyme)
Salt and pepper, to taste
Optional:
Lemon wedges for serving
Finishing Touches:
Drizzle of lemon-infused olive oil or regular olive oil
Sprinkle of fresh chopped chives, parsley, or microgreens
Instructions:
Roast the Chickpeas:
Preheat oven to 400°F (or use an air fryer).
Toss chickpeas with olive oil, smoked paprika, cumin, salt, and pepper.
Spread on a baking sheet. Roast for 20–25 minutes, shaking halfway through, until golden and crispy.
Make the Avocado Cream Sauce:
In a blender or food processor, combine avocado, lemon juice, garlic, Greek yogurt (if using), olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Blend until smooth and creamy. If needed, add a splash of water to loosen.
Cook the Fish:
Pat the fish dry. Season both sides with salt and pepper.
Heat a drizzle of olive oil in a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat.
Sear the fish for about 2–3 minutes per side, until golden and flaky.
In the final minute, add butter and thyme to the pan. Spoon the melted butter over the fish to baste it.
Prepare the Pasta:
Warm the heart of palm linguine in a skillet over medium heat with a little olive oil until just heated through (about 2–3 minutes).
Remove from heat and toss immediately with the avocado cream sauce until well coated.
Assemble the Dish:
Plate the avocado-coated linguine.
Top with crispy chickpeas and a piece of seared fish.
Drizzle with lemon-infused olive oil and sprinkle with fresh herbs or microgreens.
Serve Immediately:
Garnish with a lemon wedge if desired, and enjoy your fresh, creamy, crispy creation!
Why this recipe?
Some meals have a story tucked inside them, and this one is no exception. I chose this Heart of Palm Linguine because it’s more than just a cozy, delicious dish — it’s a reminder of small, unexpected joys that stick with us. It’s about finding goodness in surprising places and letting yourself feel it.
✨Mindfulness Moment
Next time happy tears well up, don’t rush to wipe them away. Pause. Let them fall. Whisper a quiet “thank you” to all the versions of you who hung on long enough to feel this moment.
✨Pause and Reflect Journal Prompt
Write about a time you felt overwhelming happiness. What came before it? What made that joy so powerful?
🌙 P.S. — Craving more cozy, life-elevating finds? Peek at my personal picks— the little things that helped me build a softer, stronger life.
