On Grief + Motherhood + Aliveness
13 years ago, almost to the moment, I became a mother. And today my kiddo is being celebrated and loved on by his Dad and his friends, and I won’t get to see him. Divorce is nothing if not tricky!
We had a delightfully delicious birthday celebration together last weekend, and I wouldn’t change a single bit of it! But today still feels sad, so I’ve been reflecting a lot on motherhood and grief and how I’m learning from all of it. I thought I’d share, in case you’re also hurting or living with divorce or trying to figure out what comes next.
I spent so many years saying things like “this isn’t how it’s supposed to be”
Losing my mother as I became a mother… Life and death weren’t supposed to be so intertwined. There was supposed to be joy, not death.
And yet.
Maybe this is exactly how life is supposed to be.
Good and bad, joy and hurt, light and dark living side by side.
The births of my children, the death of my mother, a hurricane that ravaged our home, divorce, and a total unraveling of who I thought I was, all as I was learning to mother.
So much shedding and loss and grief.
And so many years where I resented that all.
But there were also many glimpses of potential. A deeper relationship with my sister, deepening friendships, meeting myself in new ways… there were these moments of aliveness.
The moments of rising. Like flowers blooming in the cracks or a butterfly slowly emerging from her cocoon… it didn’t happen all at once and it never suddenly became easy all of the time.
But now there is more humanity, more joy, more love, and more presence than I ever imagined was possible.
All of those small moments building up over time to a life that is beyond my wildest dreams!
I am able to mother from a place of allowing, instead of with a desire to create.
I am mothering myself alongside my children, modeling the messiness of humanity and the fullness of abundant love and joy.
Building a business and doing work that I love every single day.
Growing a family that is full of abundant love and acceptance and adventure and laughs. A partnership where I am seen and appreciated and whole and treasured. And friendships that I would literally do nearly anything for. People who lift me up, tell me the truth, and show up in vulnerable, kind, and loving ways. It’s an embarrassment of riches.
When people ask me today how I’m doing, even on the hard and sad days like today, I say that life is sweet. That it’s sticky and tricky and hard sometimes and that it’s also more than I ever imagined it would be. That the things that make it hard are the same things that make my life rich and meaningful. What more could I ever ask for?
What a gorgeous life that I’ve built from all that heartache.
As I’m reflecting on these 13 years of motherhood today, I’m reflecting on the ways that grief and joy co-exist and how I’ve learned to dance with them both. I still hate how much heartbreak and grief there’s been, but I also know it’s made space for tremendous joy. And for that I will always be grateful
After I found myself musing yesterday about what I’m supposed to be learning from all of this hurt, I wrote the following in my journal:
Grief is my teacher.
She teaches me surrender and that I can never be alone when I have me.
She invites me (sometimes brutally!) to remember that the outcomes were never mine to control or anticipate. I can only control the now and only myself.
I was meant to learn how to mother by mothering myself.
I am meant to learn how to surrender and allow and ache and still insist on finding as much joy as possible, whenever possible.
Today is joy and grief.
After all, grief is only ever a reflection of the joy and love that has been present.
I am learning to accept.
To stop trying to control.
To limit my expectations about how things will be.
Instead I’m working on naming clear intentions and the truth of what is, because from there we can create magic.
Grief did that. It taught me all of this.
Wow.
I’m not saying that I’m happy that it all happened the way that it did. I’m not gaslighting my pain or hurt or suffering. I am simply allowing all of it to be true at once. That it has been brutal at times and that it’s also been absolutely spectacular. That I am here today, because of all the fires that I’ve walked through before now. And I guess it brings me some peace to recognize that something good– extraordinary even! – has come out of it all.
And I’m sharing because I want you to know that it’s possible, too. That after the storm comes and clears everything away, you get to rebuild. And when we honor all of the hurt and allow the process, that rebuilding can be a goddamn miracle.
Cheers to 13 years of motherhood and a life well lived!
And cheers to my utterly remarkable kiddos who inspire me every single day, even when they also challenge the shit out of me.
And cheers to you. Thanks for being on the journey with me.
with love,
Victoria
