I thought I had this grief thing mastered. I’ve helped people with their heartbreak for almost a decade. I’ve rewired my patterns. I know the tools. I’m even in a healthy relationship.
I thought I was all good.
But I’ve been dealing with a different type of heartache.
My father has been very ill. The deterioration is happening rapidly.
I’ve never gone through this kind of grief. If you’ve followed my work, you might know I’ve had a tumultuous relationship with him.
My story of my dad is that he’s the root of my anxious attachment, the reason why I spent my entire life hunting for love in all the wrong places.
But seeing him become so frail, and his livelihood dependent on me and my family, has neutralized that emotional charge I’ve had towards him.
When I’m helping him walk, eat, or advocating for him in a messy medical system – there is no past. I’m completely present. An instinct kicks in, and I am there just to help him live a little longer, as comfortable as possible.
It’s bittersweet, yet at the same time, beautiful.
As much as my heart aches, I feel like my capacity for love has expanded. I feel everything – which means the lows are really hard, but I also find the most awe and joy in the smallest things. Like noticing the intricate details of a tree. Basking in awe watching the sun set. Feeling profound gratitude – for all of it.
What I’ve learned through all my training and tools of dealing with matters of the heart – grief is nothing to be afraid of, or ashamed of. It humbles you, it grounds you, it expands your emotional range.
I can feel myself changing, growing and while I don’t know where this journey is going to take me, I know it’s significant.
So what does this mean for me now? I will be hosting the next Breakup Bootcamp this November, and this will be the last one for a while. I’m going to take some time to focus on writing and seeing what the next thing I want to put out into the world is.