I have a tendency to daydream, to lay back and have dream of a different life for myself. We all wish ourselves away, not in a dark way, only that we wish we looked better, or were better at school, or were the person that everyone desired to be like. I dream myself unlonely, surrounded by a close knit group of people, who know me deeply and still show me love. Maybe you dream yourself happy, a smile on your face at any hour of the day, able to laugh life’s troubles away.
I do this to myself. Instead of facing the life I have now, I settle into a mirage of “perfection” that I think is better than the life I’m living. I haven’t quite dealt with the things I should have. Those things I always wanted but never got. The friendship that dissolved in the rush of life. The boy I never said a word to but always admired. The dream that I let sit in the corner, collecting dust until I forgot it was ever there.
I don’t think I have regrets, but there are moments that I wished I never went through, memories that follow me around when the night comes rushing in.
There is a life I wished I had. And honestly I never grieved those things. I set them away in the trunk of my mind hoping to forget anything that ever held any weight or meaning to me – but the truth of the matter is that the things that matter, they don’t leave us.
They sit in our hearts hiding in the shadows the way your old favorite dress does in your closet – you can’t see it, but you know it’s there and your heart aches.
I haven’t personally experienced grief. But I do know that grief can be loud, it can be quiet. It is the mother crying over her dead son’s body. It is the silent tears when she stumbles onto a lost photograph of his youth. There is no timetable for grief. It is there even when the world seems to move as if your world hasn’t been broken or changed. It’s so easy to run away from this feeling. To dull it down. To busy ourselves. To surround ourselves with noise.
The only way to heal from the wounds of our unrealized desires and dreams is if we acknowledge them. And weep. Weep fully for the hurt. Choose instead as hard as it is to be fully present in your grief. This process of weeping will take time. So take your time. Don’t rush your healing. Process it fully.
Then wash your face. Clean your space. Decorate a little part of home. Step outside for a walk. When all the tears have come and gone, lift your head. Trust God. Even in your doubt. Even in the sorrow. Even when it hurts like hell.
And embrace the life you have.
Signing off, Gigi
Where do you need to weep? What loss do you need to acknowledge? Promise me that you’ll grieve it fully. After the grief, don’t forget to embrace the life you have.