Some people never seem to shed a tear. Whether it's a funeral, a hysterical moment, or a joyous occasion – emotion is certainly felt, but the ducts stay dry. On the opposite end of the spectrum, some people seem to cry extremely easily.

I'm in this second group. For me, I have only to get in my car after a horrible day at work and I'll start bawling. I was definitely sobbing when my fiance asked me to marry him. Heck, I cry when it's just a little too windy outside (or rather, my eyes start watering, but my friends have asked me whilst walking down the street if I'm doing okay).

The truth is, there's nothing wrong with being either type of person. Not everybody expresses themselves in the same way, or even stays with one consistent form of expression throughout their life. In high school, when I was feeling awkward, I would start laughing and I wouldn't be able to stop. I rarely do that anymore, and I'd like to believe that it's not because my life is less funny now, or something like that. Rather, now I express my emotions differently.

I'm not sure when I noticed that I would cry often. Certainly, when I experienced stressors at home and at college, I understood that I was crying due to being overwhelmed. When I moved to Russia, I realized that I cried far less frequently.

However, it's been since I returned home from Russia that I've really seen an uptick in this particular form of emotional expression. And it's not like my life has taken a depressing turn – I've noticed a lot more tears of joy. As I mentioned before, when my fiance asked me to marry him, I immediately was overcome, obviously with happiness and surprise and love and all those great feelings. I remember feeling the tears streaming down my face and thinking that it was a good thing to be crying, that this was the best way I could show how emotional I was. It felt right to cry.

There are often societal rules about when to show very intense emotion, especially in a physical way, like crying. If a kid sitting at the next desk over in school started crying, it was a huge, embarrassing ordeal. On the other hand, if someone doesn't manage to produce a tear at a funeral, it seems strange, and can even produce guilt in the person who just can't seem to cry. Despite the strides in equality, women are still allowed to show more emotion than men (and sometimes even expected to).

I think it's a shame that our own feelings should be dictated by society in such a way. As often as I cry, there are places that I would fight not to let the tears flow – at work, for example, where I'm meant to be a leader for other people. But most of the time, I like the intensity that crying brings to everything I feel. If I feel like crying, I don't hold back.

Today I was bowling with my extended family, many of whom are actually fantastic bowlers. I was bowling quite badly, when suddenly I got a strike. I literally screamed, turned around and hugged my brother, and felt the family rush to my throat that put me at the threshold of either holding back tears or dissolving into them.

I could have chosen to swallow them down and play it cool, but why? I was in front of my family, who were happy for me and love me. I have only ever gotten a handful of strikes in my life, so it was a very exciting moment. I had no reason to refrain.

And so I cried from happiness at getting a strike, and what could have been a regular happy moment turned into a really, truly, ferociously happy moment. By allowing myself to cry, and in front of other people, no less, I told myself, “Yes, I'm happy; I'm stupidly happy over something small, and that's perfectly okay.”

And it is perfectly okay. It's perfectly okay to ride the extremes of emotions that humans experience. It's okay to be profoundly sad over something small and seemingly insignificant. It's okay to be ridiculously proud when one little thing goes your way.

And it's okay to cry when it's just a little too windy. After all, we're not made of steel.