The thought about writing this post was inspirational to me and it is going to be raw and maybe a little emotional. I know that life is very unpredictable and situations also happen at random to anyone but still sometimes i feel unlucky or maybe unfortunate... i dont know if that sounds stupid, well i cannot control a lot of things so i would rather let go or let it be.
Grief truly has no end.
People say this all the time but there is this willingly strong part of me that always believed there would be a morning when I’d wake up, breathe differently and finally accept that my mom is gone.
Two years later, I can tell you… that moment hasn’t come. Some days I feel “better.”
And other days, I don’t even recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.
Both versions feel unsettling. Both are hard to hold. I wish i were a machine maybe i would not feel this way or i would have moved past the experience.
I’ve spent most of my life striving for perfection. It’s a pattern that started young, and it still whispers in my ear today. When I don’t meet that internal version of “perfect,” I feel lost. Confused. Ready to burn everything down and start over.
It isn’t healthy, and I’m working with a therapist to help ME feel like me again.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
I will never go back to the version of myself who still had her mom.
Grief changed me. It reshaped the way I see things, the way I fight for myself, the way I fall apart, and the way I rebuild. i am no longer the same lady anymore because i was put or forced in a position to handle things alone that have been seemingly too heavy for me to comprehend, now i am my own mother and my personal fighter, i now see everything to be traumatic or negative even if it doesnt imply. I have less trust, i now hate gatherings and all i want to do is play loud music and cry!
Healing is an effort every single day.
Some days, it feels impossible.
Some days, it feels like progress.
Both are okay.
I’m learning to notice when I need to be kinder to myself. When I need to soften instead of push. When my emotions need space instead of being shoved down until they explode. I’m trying to give myself compassion, even on the days I feel undeserving of it.
And I’m sharing this because someone out there might need to hear it too.
Your story might look different, but your heart matters the same.
If you’re grieving, healing, navigating change, or trying to recognize yourself again…
I’m standing with you.
You’re doing okay.
You’re human.
And you are worth so much more than you think.
Thank you for reading my post.