“You were Real to the Boy,” the Fairy said, “because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one,” I read, sobbing by the end of the line.

Honestly, I didn’t expect to cry. I didn’t expect The Velveteen Rabbit to be one of Those Books, the ones that dissolve me into a puddle of tears.

But when I started to cry, I didn’t hide it. I controlled it a little bit, as my full-on crying is intense. It would have taken me a good 10 minutes to recover if I let it all out! But with a couple breaks for sobs and sniffles, I finished the story.

I cried because the story is beautifully sad. I cried because rabbits are my older son’s favorite animal and his stuffed rabbit is looking quite worn. I cried because the magic of a child’s love is amazing.

But perhaps most of all, I cried because I’m sensitive. I’m sensitive to people’s pain, to injustices and to cruelty.

I feel big feelings and can’t hide my expressions.

As a kid, I was shamed for being sensitive. My tears made me an easy target for bullies; they knew that they could get a reaction out of me. Crying is usually tolerated in girls, but less so if you’re awkward and can’t control it. Other girls see an opportunity to have social power over you.

So I learned over time to hide it. To lock things away and not cry. To metaphorically, if not physically, give the finger to people who wanted to hurt me.

Until I realized that I was pushing people I loved out of my life that way. That I was shutting myself down and shutting myself off. That not engaging emotionally was making me a savior in activism, separating me from the work in a way that was toxic.

While I slowly started opening my heart back up near the end of college, my heart just broke open once I had kids. These days I sometimes cry at commercials, although it’s still to my slight embarrassment.

Now my kids are both sensitive too, coming out in different ways. As such, I want to show them that being sensitive has its challenges but is also a wonderful, important thing. That we can tap into our compassion to connect and make change. That people may prod and poke at our sensitivity, but we can’t let them make us seal it off. That it’s fundamentally part of who we are and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

So as we finished the Velveteen Rabbit, I cried. And hugged my kids knowing that they feel safe to cry too.