What I wish I knew in the early days of grief

These days, I think it's safe to say that I have respect, bordering on fondness, for grief. I mean, you don't become a grief counselor by hating grief. That's not to say my relationship with grief didn't have trickier days because we definitely got off to a rough start! Looking back, there is a lot I wish I had known in the early days of grief. And now it feels right to share it with you!

Whether you are a new or seasoned grief club member, here are some of my takeaways for navigating your relationship with grief. If you'd like personalized support during your grief journey, connect with me at Wingate Counseling. I might be the rare person in your orbit that wants to talk about all things grief!

It's okay to be boring.

I expected to be sad during grief, but I was surprised (and disturbed) by my increased fear. The world felt threatening, and I didn't have the capacity to try new things. My once adventurous self was suddenly afraid (yes, actually afraid) to drive on the highway, explore another neighborhood or meet new people. My life felt small during grief. At times I was concerned I was missing out on my life but being "boring" was exactly what I needed. As I healed, the fears reduced, my energy returned, and I was up for experiencing more of life. You will too!

There's no running away from this.

During the early days of grief, I had this fantasy of going someplace where no one knew me, and I could hide away until I was all better. I failed to consider that I would know me as there was no escaping myself! So, like most fantasies, this wasn't viable. I think I felt bad about being a total downer all the time and wanted to avoid all the ways my everyday life made me face my grief. I also thought that I had to be happy to be acceptable. Society's pressure to be happy all the time is so real, but those who love me don't need me to have it all together.

Keep talking; your people want to help you.

I needed to talk about my grief a lot. It was helpful to let out all the chaos I was feeling inside. At times it felt like I was talking about it too much. When I became insecure about oversharing, I'd bottle everything up only to have it burst out of me in other ways, like the time I cried over spilled chai tea. I had to trust that my people cared and wanted to hear about my pain. Instead of being self-critical or isolating, I urged myself to connect, even when it was hard, and allowed others in.

Grief isn't something you get over.

You are never the same when a significant person dies; your world will always be different without their physical presence. The death of my father, sister, and mother wasn't something I was ever going to "get over." I didn't want to. I'm not saying the intensity of my grief has remained the same, but rather, I'll never stop grieving my family. It looks different these days, but grief is still with me. For a long time, I felt like a tree cut down by the grief chainsaw. Just a stump. Now, I have a few branches growing out of my stump. The branches look different, but they are still a tree.

It gets better.

If you're new to the grief club, know it gets better. There is no timeline, but I promise the sun will shine in your life again. One day, you will catch yourself smiling, go the whole day without crying, or think of something else when you first wake up. You will change your hair, move, or visit the beach without them. And you will be okay. And being okay is okay! And if that all sounds scary right now, that's okay too.