“Grief is not something that ever goes away. You just learn to accommodate it so you can move forward in your life and over time it gets less intense, at least most of the time.” ~David Baxter
Grief is a natural response to loss. Loss can mean the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, the loss of a job or home, or a response to trauma, abuse, or betrayal. Grief shows itself differently in different people. But the common denominator is that grief goes deep, and grieving is painful.
Around six years ago, my life was turned upside down and would never be the same again.
I was raised in a cult from the age of nine. I was a child of domestic violence and divorce. My father abandoned the family, and we subsequently suffered abuse from my mother’s partners.
By age seventeen, I met a young man, and we began dating. In line with the strict moral code I was raised with, we were married by the time I was nineteen.
We had two children, and I struggled to be the perfect wife, mother, and cult member, as I suffered from severe anxiety, coupled with feelings of self-loathing and mistrust of others.
My husband was selfish and narcissistic, which led to me carrying the weight of the family almost alone. Yet, I battled on, wanting my children to grow up with both parents, feeling safe and in a strong, supportive community.
Eventually, things came to a head, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. After twenty years of marriage, I separated from my husband and was subsequently excommunicated by the cult. This meant that I was completely cut off from my mother, my community, and childhood friends—basically everything and everyone I knew and loved.
Outside of the cult, I had no one and nothing.
Almost overnight, I had lost my whole identity and support network along with beliefs that I had held on to for the whole of my life.
A few months after the excommunication, a close family member who was only twenty-seven took his own life. I was devastated and still reeling from the other losses that were still so raw.
Despite all of this, I was determined to rebuild a life for myself and my children. I educated myself, got a better job, made new friends, had relationships, and eventually met a good man who would go on to support and love me with all my struggles.
I was all about ‘moving on’ and building the life I wanted! But every now and then, I would get so very sad.
I was receiving counseling specific to my situation, which was helping, I had a good life, and those things that hurt me were in the past. I was doing all the ‘right’ things, so why was I getting so sad to the point that I wanted to push everything and everyone away and be alone?
I would feel like I had accomplished nothing and would be plagued with guilt and shame and regret. It would make me feel vulnerable and unsafe, and I couldn’t understand why.
Then, after another tearful and anxious weekend, I decided to try to focus on myself, meditate, journal, and do some yoga—all the things that usually helped at least ease the symptoms.
It was during my meditation session that it occurred to me: I am still grieving. I am grieving the loss of a childhood, the loss of my community, of my beliefs, of my family and friends. I am grieving the loss of my parents and of my beautiful nephew. I am grieving what I imagined my life would be and what I imagined my children’s lives would be.
I realized that grief doesn’t have a time limit; it doesn’t get ‘done.’ It’s not something we get through and tick off at the end.
My grief wasn’t just going to go away over time or with lots of positive thinking.
When we suffer loss, it hits us throughout our lives. And that’s okay. It’s uncomfortable and it’s sad, but it’s okay. It’s sometimes so painful that it is overwhelming or debilitating. We can allow ourselves to feel that sadness. We can grieve. We can allow ourselves a little space to honor that loss.
I write this because so many of us have suffered loss in our lives, and we so want to move on, do better, be better, and heal, and we can. But we also have to remember that the loss we felt was real, that grief is not a linear process, and that it’s okay if years later, we are still sad and grieving the loss. We have not gone back to the beginning. We’re not starting again or getting nowhere.
We cannot force ourselves to ‘get over it.’ We can, however, make room for that grief and still live a rewarding life. By honoring our grief, we can allow place for the loss but see that we can have a future and continue to work toward that.
I know I will never ‘get over’ the effects that abuse, abandonment, betrayal, and loss have had on me. I know I will always miss and feel sad about the loss of my nephew. I know I will always return to the grief because those things cannot be erased from my memory and because those things were my life and mattered to me.
But I can allow myself to grieve those losses without guilt or shame. I can soothe myself and take care of myself during those times when I am feeling fragile instead of beating myself up and berating myself for feeling that way and for not ‘being strong.’
When I do this, I come back feeling comforted and validated, and I can move on for a while to crafting the life I want to live. I can appreciate the friendships and relationships I have formed. I can explore new beliefs. I can entertain hope.
When I honor my grief, I honor the people I have loved and lost; I honor the beliefs I held and the hopes I had; I honor my hurt; and I honor that they were part of me and my journey and, in some ways, always will be. But I also allow myself to accept that I can honor my grief and still have a good life. I can rebuild. I can be happy.
About Suzie Headley
Suzie Headley is a SEND Lecturer working with young people with a range of additional needs. She believes that each day of life is a gift and aims to live with mindful appreciation. She recently qualified as a yoga teacher and works alongside a charity making yoga accessible to SEND children and young people. Suzie loves the simple life and believes that it’s the little things that make life beautiful and fulfilling.
