A CRYING SHAME

She lost her job on Capitol Hill. Now she’s a crusader for crying in public.

On a cloudy day in late October, Kiara McGowan dissolved into tears as she retreated from a US Capitol building with a heap of belongings in her arms – a handbag, three coats and a wireless keyboard. A staffer had offered her a box to carry everything, but McGowan refused it, terrified that it would reveal what had happened: She had just lost her dream job on the Hill, where she worked as a creative director in a Senate office.

Luckily, Congress was in recess, and the grounds were mostly empty as McGowan, known professionally as Kiara M.P., followed her usual route home. Along the way, she stopped by the Supreme Court, pacing back and forth while sobbing on the phone to her friend. Its sculpted marble mass, which had always inspired awe during her daily commutes to work, now felt oppressive as a monumental wave of emotions crashed over her.

“All I could think about was, ‘How am I going to afford rent?’,” said McGowan, who moved from her hometown of Richmond in March 2022 to take the job on the Hill.

That was the first of many heaving sobs McGowan, 31, has let out at scenic landmarks and establishments around Washington, D.C. She has cried on the Navy Yard pier, gazing out at the Anacostia River from behind a pair of dark sunglasses. She has cried at the Alamo Drafthouse in Edgewood, readying herself for a breakup with her boyfriend. She has cried on hotel steps in Adams Morgan after getting locked out of her apartment. And she has cried into a bowl of pho at a noodle bar on 14th Street, overwhelmed by the uncertainties still surrounding her life.

But despite her circumstances – she had a mounting pile of bills and was unsure where she would live – each cry was a watershed moment, freeing McGowan from the messy feelings she used to bottle up. The more she cried, she said, the more comfortable she felt doing it.

“It just feels like a huge release,” McGowan said. “I always feel good after a cry.”

Especially in D.C., she added, where a mix of vast waterfront views, lush green spaces and rooftops with expansive panoramas of the city offer her the perfect settings to meditate, journal and reflect as the tears flow freely.

This catharsis, along with the encouragement of a friend, inspired McGowan to launch @cryingindc. Through candidly narrated TikTok videos, she visits attractions around the city and reviews her experiences crying there – including a “walk ‘n’ cry” in Mount Vernon (“It was quiet, and I was able to really get it all out”) and a scenic trail in Rock Creek Park (“I cried so hard I almost threw up,” she wrote). And it’s gaining traction. Since her first post in early June, her account has grown to an audience of more than 1700 followers.

“I like how it’s still in its infancy stages, so anything is really possible. The only thing I’ve got to do is be consistent,” McGowan said. “It’s been really cool to see a lot of people resonate with it.”

Comments on the account show how McGowan’s videos have encouraged followers to let the floodgates open. “My first cry on a bus, whenever it happens, is dedicated to you,” one user wrote.

“Fully cried on the silver line today [on my way] home from work and I thought of this account,” another user commented. “I felt so much less ashamed, thank you.”

Crying has long been perceived as a sign of emotional weakness. And when done in public, it can trigger scrutiny and judgment from strangers.

McGowan experienced this while crying on a bus a few weeks ago. Her tears enraged a fellow passenger, who yelled at her to find another seat. Alarmed, McGowan swiftly moved. Later, in one of the only videos where she suggests where not to cry, McGowan recounted the experience to her followers, and the post blew up. With more than 100,000 views, it’s now her most-watched video, shedding light on the stigmatisation of crying.

Still, McGowan says few people have approached her during a sob fest, and she prefers it that way. “I think people are too caught up in their own stuff to notice,” she said. “So it’s kind of like hidden in plain sight.”

Or perhaps they choose to ignore it out of discomfort or disdain – despite the welldocumented health benefits of weeping.

According to researchers, crying can help release stress and activate feel-good chemicals that can ease physical and emotional pain. In Japan, there are strong believers in the practice, with many cities opening crying clubs, called rui-katsu, which translates to ‘ tear-seeking’, WebMD reports.

McGowan sees her TikTok account as just one of many small social media initiatives to normalize crying in public. Similar to

McGowan’s efforts, media outlet Curbed has produced lists of the best places to cry in cities across the country, including in Austin, Chicago and New York City. And, in recent years, against the backdrop of a pandemic, crying selfies have begun surging online. Influencers and celebrities – including Lizzo and Bella Hadid – have been posting teary-eyed content as a growing number of users signal an interest in more authenticity and vulnerability online.

“I definitely feel like we should all do it more. It should be just as normal as someone sneezing,” McGowan said. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel those emotions, and I say that as someone who was never allowed to.”

McGowan said she was often accused of being dramatic as a child and felt she needed to repress her feelings – especially as a Black girl. “Now I'm giving myself the permission to express my emotions,” she said. “To honour my inner child.”

Some days, she still grapples with accepting how her life has changed since losing her job. Placing her political aspirations on hold, McGowan started bartending to get by. Unable to afford her US$1833 monthly rent, she had to move out of her apartment and is crashing on a friend’s couch as she searches for an affordable place to live.

Now, during her commutes on the bus each day, she listens to guided meditations, observes all the “colourful characters” living on the fringes of society and wonders whether she is becoming one of them. “All of them had a story before they got to that space. We’re all one paycheck away from that.”

This realisation has helped shift McGowan’s outlook. “I’m lucky enough to have a friend who would let me stay on the couch... and I’m working in a restaurant where I’ve never been hungry. So I’m just practicing gratitude.”

It’s a perspective she wants to ultimately share with her followers, too. A few weeks ago, as McGowan arrived at work, she noticed a woman crying outside the restaurant. “I felt like I could understand her circumstances,” she said.

Though McGowan didn’t say anything to the woman as she passed her, she said she thinks about her a lot. She even contemplated making a video to acknowledge the woman – and still might do so. If she does, McGowan said she'd simply tell her: “I feel you... Everyone’s going through something.”

“It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel those emotions, and I say that as someone who was never allowed to.”