Tag: #therapy

I have just finished a month of therapy to which I am grateful for the insights and the aha moments my young, but brilliant counselor has brought me. My most recent session was especially hard because we explored the concept of vulnerability and where in my life does it live.  

I come from a long line of women who have mastered multi-tasking, problem solving and facing adversity with very few pity parties because of a ‘keep calm and carry on’ mentality. It was suggested that my early childhood experiences and major ones following have shaped me into a person that cannot be vulnerable as then I am not strong. Which apparently is not accurate. Vulnerability is a sign of strength. To let your guard down and show your real emotion, leaning into this and feeling it to its core takes strength.

The emotions that grief carries with it are raw, ugly, and painful, such that we try very hard to suppress them. Sometimes, we find we can share them in the comfort of therapy or like-minded friends who we can open up to. As a mother, being vulnerable in front of your children goes against the intuitive need to shield and protect. Thus, your child is aware that you are suffering but cannot understand why you make the choices you do.  They only see what you do. This disconnect can cause them to feel abandoned.

I remember my daughter, immersed with the raw pain over the loss of her brother. I remember her wishing it was her, not him. I remember holding her and thinking to myself, God how could she feel this way.  The thought of not having her around ripped through me. I told her absolutely not to feel that way, we will get through this together.  I closed that vulnerability she shared with me. Each time she wanted to be vulnerable, I reminded her to straighten her crown, pull up her big girl panties…we carry on. Even when she didn’t want to.  Because I needed her to. Because I couldn’t deal with the combined pain of mine and her pain. I couldn’t fix this; I could not heal the anguish of the loss of her beloved sibling.  I wanted to take and to carry her pain, as if by doing that, I could reduce her grief.

Siblings’ grief is complex. They know their parents are forever changed. In grief, especially in early grief, we are not capable of being fully present for anyone. The shock and pain of grief debilitate full understanding.  Siblings often feel unsupported, putting on a brave front in their attempt to help the heartache of the whole family. Their healing often is ignored or put on hold.

I discovered, in that much needed Kleenex session, that I can be and have been vulnerable. In quiet moments alone, in the shower when the water drowns the sounds of my tears…places where strong mothers go to feel their emotions.  I never considered being vulnerable with my daughter. Worse, I didn’t know what to do with her vulnerability.  That was the therapeutic lesson of the day. My need to be strong has left little room for comprehending.

Vulnerability is acknowledging that, although we are all in this together, we will feel different, need different, move at different paces. Vulnerability carries within it a trust. A trust that we can let go of the expectations and assumptions that choices do not need to be unanimous. If we listen to our loved ones speak from their heart of their needs, recognizing those needs modify as our grief does, we begin to build new and authentic relationships. After all, grief blows up what was normal and all each of us is trying to do, is build a new normal.