Ch-ch- changes
October 10, 2023
Things are different.
Not different like you think. They’re different on the inside. This “different” sits in the part inside me that sits just at the lower ribcage..
You know, the place where your heart sinks to after a breakup? Or the part of you that holds the instincts about if you should go on the trip? Quit your job? Help that stranger at the store struggling with their heavy bags?
It’s different. Very different.
I mean, I experience joy, but in different ways. I go on adventures, but with a more concern with safety. I still love to chat, but have less space for certain conversations.
Do you know this “different”?
The “different” that comes from the softening of life with grief? It has a way of slowly changing how you re enter your familiar spaces from before your loss. It provokes an observation of how much more intention is given to your closest relationships when it seeps into your being.
Is this “different” part of the trauma or the healing?
It seems that the trauma flipped my sense of being “me” upside down. Then shook it up with some healing tools before trying to figure out what parts of me get to stay and which will never be met again. This “different” seems to be the perfect blend of trauma & healing. The two work together and show up regularly for a little “chat” as we transition into each season.
This different is long-lasting.
It is this “different” that you feel instantly after a major life occurrence, but don’t know how to explain it. The change seeps into your day to day and infiltrates the life you were once familiar with. You begin to notice your key phrases shift from the toxically positive narrative into one that is authentically true. You observe your way through conversations, wondering if the others see the weight of this change on your face or if they’ll even notice at all…
Being different takes some adjustment.
How do you say goodbye to the parts of you that you didn’t even realize were leaving? I mean, maybe I don’t, we don’t, need to say goodbye. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe this journey forward after loss is a reminder that being human guarantees that everything is temporary. Every experience is bound to come to an end and very few of them end with our control.
Different is uncomfortable.
Living this life means choosing how much energy you have to explain that your baby died when you meet new people and they ask “how many kids do you have?” It also means becoming used to finding phrases that help acknowledge your stillbirth experience without every conversation turning into a therapy session for the other person. This different life ensures that you learn ways to address and integrate a highly traumatic loss experience into your being, knowing that the loss can never be rewritten as you continue to change.
And so is life, this brilliant balance of the facade of plans and unmoving routines that fools us for days, months, and years on end. When, in fact, the truest of consistencies in our lives is that things will change. We will change, places will change, relationships change, routines change, our passions change, our energy changes, and on and on.
Therefore, today, I find freedom in “different”. I find comfort in temporary. I find love in the moments I get doing things I enjoy with those that I love.
And to honor my inner teen as we find closure today…
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
…the rest is still unwritten
Natasha Beddingfield, Unwritten
peace be with you my friends.
