I will never ‘just be happy’, as so many people have asked of me over the years. I will never stop ‘thinking so much’ or ‘feeling so deeply’ when it comes to all that is hard and heartbreaking about living this life. I will never stop talking about trauma and loss and the kinds of grief that rip you clean in two. I will never stop having challenging conversations and telling the kinds of stories that make people around me uncomfortable.
Never, not for anything.
If what I share makes you cringe or uncomfortable, then maybe it’s not for you. But if you’re cringing and uncomfortable, it’s not usually because you’re truly happy and content or your focus is elsewhere… it’s because you’re not yet ready to feel into the places and spaces that are anything but polished positivity and ‘good vibes only’. Because you’ve yet to own the aspects of yourself and your life that require healing at a level that feels a lot like hell and heartbreak.
I write and share for the ones who are swimming in the aftermath of life’s most challenging chapters. Most aren’t even swimming, they’re drowning.
Because no one tells them it’s okay to not be okay. Better yet, that the magic and healing often comes with falling apart completely. No one is saying, “I get it, I hear you, I see your pain.” No one is sitting with them, exactly where they are, and allowing them to just be.
Grief, trauma, and challenging emotions need to be felt and witnessed if they’re ever going to become truly resolved. That requires time, space, and a willingness to sit still inside the feelings we often fight so hard to avoid or dismiss.
So I keep writing and sharing and talking about all that is hard and hurts, because I’m not afraid of if. I don’t believe it’s bad or negative. I don’t think people are weird, damaged, or broken. I know that bad things happen all the time. It doesn’t mean I’m also not incredibly joyful and at peace inside myself and my own life. I am, truly.
There’s room for both the magic and the madness, the beautiful and the chaotic, the happy and the heartbreaking.
There just aren’t enough people holding space for it all.
For me. For you. For all those in the middle of the storm.
We need more people who are willing to have these conversations and hold space for the complex and confusing process of healing. So many more.
Share your stories.
Tell your truth.
Feel your feelings.