Griefy Feelings

My mom died about 8 years ago. Our relationship was complicated so I guess the grief is too. I haven’t talked much about her or missing her. Or being mad or sad at her. I guess I’ve been afraid of taking up space. Afraid that my experience and my feelings about it would be too much or too wrong or just TOO.

Afraid of taking up space for myself. Unsure if I could be handled. If the shape of my pain could be held by whatever the audience was.

But when I feel it, whatever it is in the moment, somehow it is held. 

In conversation. In therapy. 

On a page. By carbs and fats and sugars. Music. Art. 

Breath. Movement.

I am required to take up space. To experience the world experiencing me. To experience the world carving out a space in the shape of me.

Because I am beautiful.

Because the shape of me and my pain and panic and sadness is unique and beautiful and deserves to be experienced.

I deserve to have myself carved into things. To exist.

Because I will be held. I always am. I don’t have to be alone.

People are so capable in their compassion. And love. Some have failed but most don’t.

The world meets us all in our frailty. There’s cracks in everything. That's how the light gets in.

That’s also how the light gets out. When we exhibit our cracks and experience ourselves being experienced and held and loved.

We all deserve this pain and the healing of it.

Maybe you have complicated feelings too. Complicated situations. 

I’m glad. 

Not for your pain. 

Not for your suffering. 

But glad that we’re not, any of us, alone in it.

Thank you for taking these words in.