I don’t know if you will ever read this. I don’t know if I will ever polish these thoughts enough to be published. But right now, maybe it is enough to just write them down.

I am sad. I feel like I am not supposed to be sad. Why am I resistant to what is? I am “supposed” to be grateful and thankful, at peace with what is. I am supposed to find joy and delight in the midst of hard things. I want to have  a fairy tale ending. I’ve spent my whole life trying to find my happy ending. What if this is all there ever is going to be? What if my fairy tale ending never comes? What if pain and loss just is without a redeeming quality in the end? Can I make peace with that?

Finding peace with the acceptance of who I am regardless of what others think

An excerpt from “How to Live Fully” by Kelsey

I flew to visit a friend for a weekend when I was dating Kelsey. I had a lovely weekend and was so grateful for the chance to reconnect. When I got home, Kelsey was there to pick me up from the airport. I missed them so much. We got so little time to be together. They had told me before I boarded that they wouldn’t be able to stay the night. They needed sleep and they needed to be in their own bed. I was grateful they knew what they needed and could share that need with me. And I was sad I would only get the 20 minute drive home with them. I didn’t know what to do with all this feeling. Everything I had been taught was that both of these feeling couldn’t both exist. If I wanted to truly be grateful for Kelsey’s boundaries, I couldn’t be sad about them. So, what happens when I feel both at the same time?

I hid in the bathroom of the airport after deboarding and cried. Typing out this text to Kelsey

Jess:
Kelsey, I’m sad. I hate that I am sad. I know you need rest and space. I know I need rest and space. I want to stop wanting things so much and I can’t. I can’t not want things. I can’t not be sad. I don’t know how to be in this world with all my wants. Your boundaries and needs are so important to me. I don’t want to numb myself. I don’t want to withdrawal from you. I don’t know how to feel it all.

Kelsey:
let’s chat about this <3

And so, I left my stall, dried my face, and walked out to get in their car.

We talked on the drive to my house. They dropped me off. Then drove the 20 mins home to their house.  When they got home, I got this text:

Kelsey:
I know it’s hard to be feeling the feelings you’re feeling. I hope you know that I see you and accept you. Your feelings are valid and you are loved.

Jess:
Thank you…I get so scared. I feel so sure and unsure at the same time.

Kelsey:
…Do you know what you need?

Jess:
What do I need? I need to brush my teeth and get in bed. I think everything else is a want.

Kelsey:
What do you want?

Jess:
I want to know what you are feeling.

Kelsey:
I am feeling a ridiculous amount of love towards you. I am feeling sad that I can’t be there with you tonight and also meet my needs. I am feeling like there is not enough time or space in the world to show you how deeply I feel for you.

 

Rereading this texting thread is so hard and sad and comforting and beautiful all at the same time. I am reminded that these moments of beauty and vulnerability and love existed. I got to experience them. I got to allow someone else to really see me the moments I most wanted to mask, to hide. And the connection I got to experience when the person I showed myself to responded with not just acceptance, but also love.

The magnitude of my grief and loss isn’t too much when I remember what I have lost. And the fear that this loss will never truly lessen is a hard truth to hold. What if this is all there ever is? How in the world do I find joy again. How do I open myself up to love again when I know what it is like to lose it? I don’t know that I can handle more lose right now. I don’t feel like I am “handling” this loss. Maybe I need a new definition for “handling”. Maybe that can be something to explore later.

You can’t force order onto pain. You can’t make grief tidy or predictable. Grief is as individual as love: every life, every path, is unique…

To do grief well depends solely on individual experience. It means listening to your own reality. It means acknowledging pain and love and loss. It means allowing the truth of these things space to exist without any artificial tethers or states or requirements.

Megan Devine
It’s OK that You’re Not OK
pg 31