I came in with grief. I thought I knew grief. It came dressed in black. My grief of 2020 came with some new fiery red shades. I had lost my cousin, 2 uncles, and my new marriage to Peter Pan. I only knew grief to be for grandparents. Grief had always been timely, reasonable, and tied up neatly with closure. The deaths in 2020 were rapid and sudden. 3 in 119 days.
None of these deaths were expected. We did not get a warning. In that time, Peter Pan left the marriage. My grief was for those gone too soon and a dream of a family with Peter Pan that never took flight.
Before 2020, grief was an emotional acquaintance I visited infrequently. The visit was usually brief and attended to with a soft smile of acknowledgment of a long life lived well. It came when I was missing a voice, a laugh, or was gently reminded of a nostalgic memory. Its presence was soft, and tender and revisited a physical token of jewelry or a trinket. I had heard that grief is different for everyone. I didn’t realize it was different every time it showed up in your life. In 2020, it came like a fiery blow to an already exhausted body and mind. My tender and sweet grief had turned into a raging presence. I didn't recognize it this time around, I could not identify how or what I was feeling. The jumbled thoughts raced in and I was not able to explain the red-shaded glasses I wore everywhere. I couldn't stop staring at this tree outside my bedroom in Oct 2020. It was only then, that I knew my grief was accompanied by a fiery anger.
I knew of anger. It was physical, it was loud, and it was controlled and victimized. There was no way I was going to be angry. I was not like them. I had found my path out of anger in people-pleasing. My tactic helped me fly below the radar and allowed me to isolate any unpleasant emotions. I could flash a smile, perform to distract, and smooth things over with my kindness. I was labeled an easy-going, go-with-the-flow kind of person. It mattered not what I felt, I would do anything to help everyone else be okay. That was my gift and my curse. I could build walls fast. I would isolate how I felt to keep the peace. The vulnerability wasn’t familiar. Anger was suppressed and even shunned. Expressing or trusting myself to express either was out of the question. Perhaps, I had forgotten and maybe never truly acknowledged my humanness.
Consumed with grief, anger, exhaustion, and deep sadness, I stepped outside of myself on Nov 29, 2020. I was forced to pause my life to look within. Questioning who am I showing up for and why am I doing it. Re-evaluating the importance I placed on people, places, and things. Picking myself up, brushing off the critics, shedding layers of self-limiting beliefs, and allowing air to the past traumas. I found healing as I rose out of self-abandonment and the destruction caused by the one I allowed into my heart. Today, I am grateful for not getting what I thought I wanted. I’m grateful for the deeper meaning in my days. I’m grateful time has slowed down. I’m grateful for the ones who believed in me and loved me. I’ve learned there will always be grief in my heart and it's okay to be angry. There is no need to run from either. They are as necessary as the love I carry with them. I’ve learned fear and love can not coexist. Self-validation is about self-love rather than outward achievements. Real kindness and compassion begin in how you speak to and about yourself.
It has been 2 years or 730 days of healing inside. I'll detail my journey here.
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