Your Grief is Safe with Me
The ache of grief is vast like an ocean, warm on its surface and chilly in its depths. It covers you; wave after wave of pain and hurt crashing against the corners of your being. And in the next moment, it leaves you so full of love, so light, and so beyond grateful for what you’ve lost.
My dog died in March. My soul dog. My sweet Vivianne. It happened quickly, and I held her as she left our world. Walking out of the emergency vet without her undid me. Her absence was palpable and it ripped me open. It also left me relieved. And my relief gave way to immense shame and guilt, which felt nearly intolerable.
I was six weeks postpartum when Vivianne died and trying to find my footing as both a mother and human being again. In addition to grieving her loss, I was grieving the loss of who I was before giving birth. Before becoming a mom. I was grieving who I was when it was just Vivi and me. I cried for her, and I cried for all of the versions of me I was with her. I cried because she couldn’t be a part of this new version of me I was growing into.
I’ve been able to reflect on grief a bit more since losing my Vivi, and am struck by its duality. In our grief, opposing emotions or desires are often true at the same time. My sadness and relief over Vivi’s death existed within the same moment. Mourning my “old life” and being so undone by the beauty of motherhood occurred simultaneously. Even the act of grieving can be both isolating and connecting.
Over the last few months, my grief has become more tolerable. Maybe because of time, and maybe because of the tremendous support I received from those close to me and from my therapist. We often feel alone in our grief, perhaps due to the worry that the intensity of our emotions will be too much for others. Yet it is often the space others hold for us that eases our grief. Being able to cry and fully experience my sadness, my shame, and my guilt alongside safe people was often the most helpful way to move through my grief. They didn’t try to stop my tears or “make it better.” They just shared in the hurt with me.
As a therapist, I’ve found that grief takes on many forms in the therapy room. It can show up as the loss of safety, sadness about what could have been, or discomfort around life transitions and changes. It can be the end of a relationship, the end of a job, or the end of a life. Whatever shape grief takes, it is always welcome in session and I feel honored whenever a client trusts me with their grief.
If you’re experiencing grief right now, I see you, and I am sending so much love to you. You are never alone in this. If you’d like support as you navigate your grief, I’d be honored to accompany you in that journey. I’m here. I won’t try to fix it or take it away, but I will hold space for it. Your grief is safe with me.
Authored by Michelle Nemeth, LPC-A