The Courage to Grieve
/Nobody told me life was riddled with so much grief. Nobody told me at times it would be hard to see any joy or hope at all. Nobody prepared me for the depression and grief of being an adult. When you’re a child you get time to rest and your parents will likely let you lay on the couch while they bring you snacks and in general, having fun is a top priority. As an adult, your top priorities are keeping yourself and your family alive, paying the bills, giving enough at work so that you can keep your job and hopefully get a raise, and shield yourself from the inevitable wrenches that home ownership and other unforeseen tragedies under capitalism will throw your way. What’s not to love?
These last two years have been challenging mentally, physically, and spiritually. I think I’ve had to endure the hardest times of my life, even though I hesitate to say that because things keep happening and piling up as time goes marching on. Losing my dad, giving birth to my first child and becoming a mom, navigating postpartum depression and anxiety, feeling forced to quit my job, starting a new job, reigniting my passion for coaching, experiencing COVID twice plus a myriad of other head colds, a bathroom leak, and mold in our house, a piece of our roof falling down, becoming estranged from my sister, losing my beloved cat child, and carrying my second baby. Phew. It’s a lot. And if you’ve experienced any type of life-altering identity shift plus the bullshit that life throws at us, I know you get it.
And, there is grief involved in every one of these situations. Every single one of these situations involves a loss of some sort and many of them involve complete identity shifts. I’ve spoken a lot about how losing my dad makes me think much more existentially about my life, what I want to be doing as a career, and how to better contribute to the world. Did I anticipate this loss also completely changing my family dynamic and causing a divide? Absolutely not. Grieving his passing has caused deep strife instead of a deeper connection. It has caused me great loneliness and isolation. And it has also encouraged me to look for a new kind of support. It has given me the awareness of what I want in my life and what I don’t want in my life. It has given me the motivation to move and change and grow in a new way.
Grieving did that for me. The courage to grieve did that for me. Did you know so many of us don’t even have the courage to grieve? I don’t say that in a shameful way. I say that because we live in a society where grief is only allowed when it is palatable and on a specific timeline, and done in private. Well, I said fuck that.
Unfortunately, we never get to decide when grief comes and goes. It makes its own timeline. When we fight against it, or constantly ignore it, it can have great consequences. I think having the courage to grieve and let grief change us is the most powerful and the most vulnerable thing we can do.
But having the courage to grieve isn’t always easy. It’s not as simple as saying, “Ok body and mind let’s grieve.” To truly surrender to it we have to be available to feel it and this might include tears, feelings of anger and rage, a distraction from other tasks, and even taking time off to process these intense emotions. Having the courage to feel these emotions takes vulnerability. It also takes the courage to connect with others who understand where you’re coming from.
Grief has made me feel more isolated and lonely than any other type of experience in my recovery and maybe grieving while becoming a mother has made it even more intense. Surrendering to new identities, allowing grief to change how I feel and what I do with my life, and staying connected to it, has not been easy. This is part of the reason I decided to create my Grief Circle. I yearned for a space where people could come, openly grieve, and be with others who just get it.
We will all have to endure grief at some point and time in our lives. How we navigate it when it happens is up to us. Will we shut out the world? Disconnect and ignore? Or connect and show up?
We all deserve the courage to grieve.