How to Cry (and react to criers) at Work

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I’ve cried at work. Just a few months ago, I was in a conversation with a colleague where I felt unfairly seen and unsafe, and tears came. For me, tears often show up at work when something feels misaligned or unjust. But also, sometimes the trigger is personal, like when I was 26 and my boss asked how I was doing, right after a breakup. Cue the tears. I still remember the shame of unloading so many tears in my boss’ office.

As a coach, I’ve cried with clients who are experiencing big feelings. I’m a crier. I accept that label as I honestly don’t know how not to cry. Have you ever tried to hold back tears successfully? Full disclosure: this is not a tool in my toolbox.

Charles Darwin once dismissed human tears as purposeless, an evolutionary accident with no real function. But if Darwin had ever sat across from a colleague with wet eyes, he might have reconsidered. Because what I've learned through my own tears and those of my clients is that crying at work reveals something profound about human connection and what we value most.

Maybe you’ve cried at work, too. For some of us, tears feel involuntary. They surface in feedback sessions, after long hours, when the stakes feel high, when we feel overlooked, or simply because something matters.

These experiences led me to wonder: what's actually happening when we cry, and why does it feel so loaded in professional settings? Let’s unpack it.

Crying is (almost) universal

Humans are the only species that shed tears from emotion. Modern neuroscience tells us that crying is our body's way of regulating overwhelming emotion, engaging the nervous system, and triggering empathy in others.

Interestingly, Michael Trimble, a behavioral neurologist and one of the world’s leading experts on crying, tells the story of being asked on a BBC program about people who never cry. Stumped, he created an email address on the spot ( [email protected] ) and was flooded with hundreds of responses. His conclusion? We know very little about non-criers, but what we do know is that emotional tears are uniquely human and profoundly social.

The science (and mystery) of tears

We know very little about tears in general in the science world. Compared to fields like happiness or stress, crying has received remarkably little scientific attention, despite being such a universal human experience. They remain a bit of a mystery as very few people have chosen to study tears.

Ad Vingerhoets, author of Why Only Humans Weep, argues that crying evolved as a bonding mechanism. Babies cry to elicit care. So are adults also crying to elicit care? It turns out, yes. Psychologist Jonathan Rottenberg puts it this way: “Crying signals to yourself and other people that there’s some important problem that is at least temporarily beyond your ability to cope.”

So let's keep this information at the forefront: crying is a signal.

Of course, while crying is universal, some people find themselves tearing up far more often than others.

Why some people cry more

Not all of us cry with the same frequency. Research suggests that people vary in their tendency to cry based on personality, gender norms, and biology. Endocrinology studies confirm that women, on average, have higher baseline levels of the hormone prolactin, which is associated with tear production and emotional release. The APA Monitor notes that these higher levels may partly explain why women cry more frequently than men. Additional studies, such as Menopause and Tear Function, have found correlations between sex hormones (including prolactin) and tear production. Importantly, people who cry more are often more attuned to emotional nuance and relational signals. In other words: they tend to be sensitive beings (which can be a wonderful strength -- read my earlier piece on sensitivity here!)

Composition of tears

There are three types of tears -- basal, reflex, and emotional. The very composition of tears tells an interesting story, and I always love to share this fascinating tidbit with clients: emotional tears are chemically different from reflex tears (which are the body's emergency response to eye irritation, and are designed to flush out harmful substances and protect the eye). Research, beginning with William Frey’s studies in the 1980s and expanded in more recent reviews like The Neurobiology of Human Crying, shows that emotional tears contain more protein and stress-related hormones, which makes them more viscous and slower to fall down your face. That “stickiness” means they linger longer so others are more likely to see them and respond with empathy. It’s as if our bodies designed tears to amplify connection. How cool is that?!?

If you’re the one crying, your body is signaling connection. And if someone in front of you is crying, those tears are a cue and an invitation to see and connect with their experience.

But even as science shows us tears are designed for connection, workplaces often tell a different story.

But while biology shows us the brilliance of tears, the workplace often adds another layer: stigma. Neuroscience shows that seeing someone cry activates the same areas of the brain as feeling strong emotions yourself. Tears invite empathy and can even diffuse anger. But there’s a double bind: people who cry are often perceived as warmer but also less competent.

This is just perception, but as we know, perception matters in the workplace. A Harvard Business Review study found that most executives say occasional crying is understandable. But frequent crying? Managers feel different about that. Leaders may start to interpret repeated crying as a lack of maturity, professionalism, or resilience.

Credibility vs. Frequency of Crying

Occasional tears → Seen as authentic, humanFrequent tears → Risk being labeled "unstable" or "too emotional"“Strategic” tears → May be seen as manipulative

One of my clients once said she thought her direct report wasn’t “mature enough” for leadership because she cried so often. Another client of mine, on the other side of the table, felt deep shame after crying repeatedly and being pigeonholed as “the messy one.” Both perspectives carry truth and tension.

“Strategic tears”

There's the thorny question of strategic tears, which would be described as crying to manipulate a situation or avoid consequences. I've heard managers complain that they feel someone is crying to deflect or get their way. While intentional manipulation can happen, most tears in difficult conversations stem from genuine emotional overwhelm rather than calculated strategy. Our instinct to question the authenticity of tears may reveal more about our own discomfort with crying than the person who's crying.

As a manager, if you notice a pattern where tears consistently appear during accountability conversations or whenever certain topics arise, it's worth addressing directly. You might say: "I want to make sure we can have these important conversations. What would help you feel more supported so we can work through this together?" This approach focuses on finding solutions rather than questioning motives, while still maintaining necessary boundaries around performance and behavior expectations.

Generational attitudes towards crying at work

Generational attitudes are shifting. Surveys summarized in Psychology Today show that Millennials and Gen Z are generally more comfortable bringing their whole selves to work, including emotions. They often see vulnerability as authenticity rather than weakness, and they expect workplaces to support psychological safety (the shared belief that it’s safe to express vulnerability, ask questions, and make mistakes without fear of punishment or humiliation) which would include being okay with tears. By contrast, Gen X and Baby Boomers often grew up in workplace cultures where emotions were expected to be checked at the door and professionalism was equated with composure. Tears were more likely to be seen as a liability than a form of authenticity.

Cultural context around tears

Beyond generational differences, cultural backgrounds significantly shape attitudes toward workplace tears. In many East Asian cultures, emotional restraint in professional settings is deeply valued, and crying may be seen as a loss of face or disruption of group harmony. Mediterranean and Latin American cultures often have more acceptance of emotional expression, viewing tears as natural human responses. Northern European and North American business cultures typically fall somewhere between, with growing acceptance but lingering discomfort. Understanding these cultural lenses helps explain why some employees may feel ashamed of crying while others seem more comfortable with emotional expression at work. This knowledge can also help you have a little more understanding that everyone’s proclivity and relationship to tears is different.

First, welcome to the crier club. You are human. Crying means something is important to you. That reframe to saying, “this matters to me” is powerful. (Remember, it’s a signal.)

Some strategies if you find yourself crying at work:

In the moment: Pause, breathe, sip water. If you can, replace “I’m sorry I’m emotional” or “I’m sorry I’m crying” with “I’m crying because this matters to me.” I have been guilty of apologizing when I’m crying and let’s all try to shift that reflex.
Take space if needed: It’s okay to ask for a short break or ask for whatever you need at that moment. When you are crying people want to know what you need so it’s helpful for you to get in touch with that.
Notice patterns: If tears come often, ask: is this about overload? A mismatch of values? A workplace culture that isn’t supportive? Is something personal showing up at work? Journaling about the tears is a good place to start.
If it keeps happening: Crying doesn’t mean you are weak, but repeated tears can affect perception. If you cry a lot, consider talking with a mentor, coach, or therapist about what the tears are pointing to. Tears are an invitation to exploroe more about yourself.

Leaders often ask me: What do I do when my employee cries?

Here’s what I tell them: your job is to stay present. Part of handling tears is sitting in the discomfort of someone else’s vulnerability without rushing to erase it. Think about how it feels when you’re crying and someone immediately says, “Don’t cry.” It rarely helps. Mostly it feels dismissive or like you are doing something wrong. What people usually need in those moments is acknowledgment, patience, and space.

When someone cries with you, try this:

Acknowledge: “I can see this is important. I understand your perspective.”
Pause and self-reflect: Take a breath. Remind yourself to be open and curious about what they are experiencing. (Also remind yourself it may not be about you!) If you feel uncomfortable, take note. Later on you can ask yourself what might have led to that? Notice what messages you absorbed about crying growing up and how they may shape how you respond.
Ask open questions: Try, “What feels most important here?” or, “What would be helpful right now?” or, “What is the best way I can support you in this?”
Respect privacy: Don’t be tempted to ask invasive probing questions about things outside of work. Ask general questions and let them lead.
Resist the urge to immediately fix: Listening can often be enough. When you rush in to fix, it can signal discomfort with emotions. If action is needed, you might ask, “Would you like to solve this problem together?”
Follow up: Later, check in. Tell them you appreciate that they felt safe to share with you. See if they need support or resources.

I often share with my clients the phrase, "if someone is hysterical, it's usually historical." This insight, originally coined by trauma therapist Gaetano Vaccaro, has been widely adopted by somatic healing practitioners like Resmaa Menakem in his work on racialized trauma. The phrase reminds us that intense emotional reactions often trace back to old experiences or wounds, not just the moment at hand. This perspective helps leaders remember not to take every tear or outburst at face value. Often what you're seeing is bigger than the present moment.

Some people become the unofficial office shoulder to cry on. It’s usually because they create psychological safety and radiate empathy.

Being the office shoulder can build trust and deepen relationships, but can often result in less time and energy to care for yourself.

If you don’t want to carry that “shoulder” role (or want to hold it more lightly), consider these options:

Set appropriate boundaries: Try, “I care about you, but I don’t have the capacity right now. Could we check in tomorrow?”
Clarify their need: Ask directly, “What kind of support would be most helpful from me right now?” This often helps people get in touch with whether they are just venting or actually seeking support. Sometimes people simply need to be witnessed, not advised, and naming that distinction can lighten your load.
Channel Your Inner Coach: Use gentle coaching questions like, “What are your options here?” “What do you want?” or “If you were your own best friend in this situation, what would you tell yourself?” Most people are capable of solving their own problems, and questions like these can help them reconnect with their agency.
Refer when appropriate: If the issue feels beyond your role or expertise, point them toward HR, a mentor, an Employee Assistance Program, or a professional counselor.
Check-ins with yourself: Ask yourself: Am I taking on their emotions as my own? If the answer is yes, it’s likely a sign to step back.
Practice compassionate release: Afterward, remind yourself, “I was present. That was enough. Their story stays with them, not with me. It’s not my job to hold their emotions.”

Tears invite you to connect

As Brené Brown’s work on vulnerability shows, trust isn’t built when things are easy. It’s built when we sit together in discomfort. Tears can be inconvenient. They can be messy. But they’re also invitations to connect, to pause, and to pay attention.

Crying reminds us that we are beautifully human and linked to one another.

Do we feel better after crying?

Research shows it depends. In the short term, crying doesn’t always improve mood. In fact, lab studies find people sometimes feel worse right after crying. But given time (about 90 minutes or more), many people do feel better. Emotional regulation benefits often come later, once the nervous system has reset. Laboratory studies tracking participants' moods in real-time show that while people often feel worse immediately after crying, about 90 minutes later—once stress hormones have receded and the parasympathetic nervous system has engaged—many report improved emotional well-being (see Ad Vingerhoets' book Why Only Humans Weep).

That said, crying doesn’t always bring relief. People who cry while alone, who lack supportive responses from others, or who are experiencing depression often report feeling worse, not better, after crying. In these cases, tears may amplify feelings of isolation or helplessness rather than provide release. Context, connection, and timing are what make the difference between a “good cry” and a draining one.

Tears as invitations to self

Tears are not just invitations to others. They are invitations to ourselves. When we cry, we are reminded that something is important, tender, unfinished, or unresolved. Instead of rushing past the discomfort, we can ask: What are these tears showing me? What am I being asked to notice? What part of me needs kindness right now?

In this way, tears reconnect us not only to each other, but also to our own inner world. They reconnect us with the values we hold, the relationships we cherish, and the parts of ourselves that need compassion.

Tears are magical: our bodies create liquid empathy, signaling to others and ourselves that we are alive, connected, and human.

So here's an invitation: The next time you encounter tears at work, whether your own or someone else's, pause before your first reaction. Ask yourself: What is this emotion trying to tell us? How can I respond with curiosity instead of discomfort? In a world that often feels disconnected, tears might just be the bridge we didn't know we needed.

Perhaps it's time to reconsider our relationship with workplace tears entirely. As a crier I know I would appreciate a more flexible and compassionate approach to tears. What if, instead of apologizing for tears, we started seeing them as part of what makes work more human?