Luxuriating in Grief

Savoring what I was most scared of

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For every beautiful thing about this year, it has been matched with a loss. For months, I refused to acknowledge that loss. I sent a voice note to

Joy Newell

telling them how sick I was of feeling stuck—I just wanted to find the next project, next phase, next feeling, but didn’t feel like I could move forward no matter how badly I wanted to.

“I don’t think you’re stuck. I think you’re grieving,” they said.

I have often refused to claim grief because, even when faced with death, I am so quick to accept loss as a part of life. Grief from loss is sticky enough, so what am I supposed to feel when I didn’t just lose something, but let it go? How do we grieve something we choose to do? Something we chose to walk away from? Something we did to ourselves? Something that caused harm?

I’ve spent so many months getting the courage to face the version of myself that cheated, ended my marriage, broke up another marriage, and hurt people I loved in the process. I refused myself the luxury of grief, especially because in that loss, I found myself in the process. I felt too much guilt and shame that it took detonating everything to become who I am now¹.

But grief eventually chooses us. Our bodies hold on to the impact of loss. Our bodies may not be able to register the why of the choice, but they can sense the loss or shift regardless. Especially for someone with trauma, newness can signal the unsafe, and my traumatized body takes more time to become comfortable with something new. We have to gently carry our bodies through learning a new truth and rhythm. Our bodies cannot simply move on. We must feel–we must carry our bodies through that grief.

We do ourselves a disservice when we deny ourselves the experience of grief. By simply saying I was feeling stuck, I wasn’t allowing my body to acknowledge the real changes that have happened. I was trying to rush through the shame I felt and toward the fully realized version of my new reality without slowing down to acknowledge the real impact that having your entire life upended (and upending other people’s lives), whether you chose it or not, has.

I not only ended my marriage, ruined a close friendship, tarnished my public image as an online creative, and acted outside of my values, but I also moved from a city where I was building real community, and I thought I’d root down. I got top surgery. I realized I was a lesbian. My parents got much sicker. I got sick–again. My job changed. I decided to move again. Our society and global reality are nauseating at best. My entire sense of self and identity completely capsized, alongside getting absolutely obliterated by hate comments, death threats, doxing attempts, and snark pages.

Grief is an acknowledgment, an embodiment, that life once looked one way, and it no longer does. Here–I give myself permission. I am allowed to grieve what I once thought my life would be like. I am allowed to grieve who I once thought I would be. I am allowed to grieve the relationships I once held dear. Even if I am happier, there is a sadness in the loss of a version of a life–a version of a self. There is heartache in the loss of what we hoped for ourselves and the world we inhabit.

Here I am, grief! Have at it! I will savor it! I luxuriate in you! I claim it as a fundamental part of my humanity! My grief is proof that I once loved. My grief is proof that I have allowed my mind to be changed. My grief is proof that I can learn new information and make different choices. My grief is proof that I am engaged with the world’s interconnectivity. My grief is proof that I am an active participant in my life. My grief is proof I am forever changing, and each version of my life is something to be held with reverence because it led exactly where I’m supposed to be–here. 

@kendollisms

@yallaroza

@jezzchung

@hopehealingarts / @bunnymichael

As I was editing the draft of this newsletter,

Jamila Reddy

landed in my inbox with a similar subject matter. Further proof we are never alone.

Giving yourself permission to grieve

Look ma! A famous right-wing fascist made a video about me and my COVID-conscious travel video (don’t actually go look, he doesn’t deserve the the views). On a serious note, I shared why right-wing fascists and COVID deniers are feeling more empowered to attack mask-wears, move the needle forward on mask bans, and why combating these things through visible solidarity is so important.

I found this very incredible resource that helps fight COVID misinformation BY TOPIC! Just go to the drop-down menu, pick a common talking point, and you will get so many studies that can help combat misunderstandings and misinformation.

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Love,

1. Saturn really returned, huh?