Why I Share
Two weeks after Brad died, I wrote this in my journal:
"I keep searching for writings on grief. Not the inspirational, "you'll get through this" type. But the tragic, horrific, gritty type. I am searching for other people's thoughts on loss. Maybe because I don't want to feel so alone. Maybe because I want to see the depths of their despair rivals my own. Maybe it's searching for hope. It’s like I have to see that they understand - really understand - what I'm feeling before I can possibly believe them when they say it gets better. Or maybe I'm just torturing myself.”
I didn’t understand then why I craved other people’s stories of grief. It felt wrong to want the dark moments. But what I know now is that it wasn’t just about being a voyeur into someone else’s tragedy. It was about holding space for someone else’s pain and then, ultimately, feeling less alone in my own.
For anyone who has wondered why I openly share - why I talk about the dark and difficult bits, it’s for that girl. That girl who is two weeks out from the worst moment of her life and grasping for a lifeline in someone else’s experience. To not only SEE that it gets better, but to BELIEVE it gets better, because she’s not alone in the dark. I share for her. I share for me.
Sharing our stories - the full stories - of grief matters.
What’s your story?