218: Being Strong is a Lie
You know when people come up to you and say you are so strong, I couldn’t imagine going through what you are going through, and you seem to be doing so well…and you feel broken and shattered inside and not strong at all?
Maybe you say this to yourself though. That you need to be strong for your kids. That you have a spouse that needs your help, kids that need your help, or a job that’s relying on you.
So you think you need to be strong, that you need to push through. Saying we need to be strong is one of the most damaging things we can say in grief, and as humans.
I get if you are using this strength and pushing through grief right now, you might be thinking, digging and pushing through is the only way I’m surviving right now, so listen in please, and I’ll share some reasons why we need to change our perception of strength, and how the current narrative around strength is a detriment to grief.
Number one stops us from getting or asking for help when we need it, thinking that if we were stronger we wouldn’t need help. If we were stronger, we wouldn’t be struggling so badly. All the judgments and things that stop you from getting the assistance you may need in your grief.
For some reason, it’s easy to think that you should be able to handle this. Or you should be able to navigate this without help, assistance, or support. Says who? This is the most difficult thing you will ever experience in your life, why would you try to do it on your own?
I am honestly confused by the messages I get sometimes from moms who get angry at me for doing this work because it does cost money for my 1:1 services and Grieving Moms Haven, and they say, no I don’t pay for help for my grief, and that’s fine if that’s what they want, but I’m like, don’t you want every single aspect of help you can get?
When you are going through the hardest thing you will probably ever experience in your life, why do you need to just push through and be strong? It’s so mind-boggling to me.
So, I hope if you are putting on a front, pretending to be strong and that you’ve got everything figured out, that you will hear this, and know that it’s okay to get outside help. It’s okay to tell your friends you’re not doing ok. Tell your family. Be honest about how you are doing. Because again, this is the hardest thing you will probably ever go through in your life. And it’s okay if you fall apart for a little while.
I clearly remember having to choose to let go of my pride. I decided when people asked if they could help I said yeah and I gave them an idea of what I needed help with. There was no just saying you wanted to help and not doing anything about it. If someone offered, I took them up on it. But this truly only was available to me because I decided it was ok for me to say yes. Otherwise, I tend to just do it all myself.
For if someone offers to help me to get the car with me screaming kids, or pile of groceries, or whatever someone nice in the world has offered, I usually always say no, I’ve got it, and this is where I learned the power of surrender and allowing myself to be taken care of, which can seem to be a position of weakness, but it takes a lot of strength to allow others to take care of you.
Number two, it makes us beat ourselves up when we have a bad day or week or month, or year.
Number three, it makes us think we cannot feel our emotions, because “strong” means emotionless, and “weak” means crying and grieving. Society's way of viewing strength is your ability to keep going even when the worst has happened. And this means pushing through, running yourself into the ground, ignoring your needs, emotions, or what would be best for you, it’s just generally pushing through.
This kind of strength I actually think is not true strength. This cannot be sustained forever. It’s exhausting to do grief with a forceful energy. It’s different if you can do other things and it feels okay. What I’m meaning is when you are forcing yourself over and over again to push down your emotions, do your tasks, maybe even do extra tasks, forcing yourself to keep going in a way that is unsustainable and exhausting.
This way of doing grief is exhausting, and it’s kicking the can down the road. While processing and moving through grief and relaxing into it is also exhausting, it’s helping you get to a more stable and grounded place so you have more space and room in your life.
Think of one person who is using a pick ax and breaking through a rock. The forcing, the exhaustion it takes. The struggle. It’s a ton of work just to keep going.
Then think of another person who has a raft and they are riding the waves, they still have to work to stay afloat, but they are flowing through and over. It’s lighter, and the movement is quicker so they can get to a calm spot in the water. Where the person breaking through the rock is still there, in the same spot.
I don’t know if that analogy is completely flushed out, but I’m trying to describe the difference between being strong internally and more like a rock and not going anywhere, which is also more work and exhausting, and flowing with the emotion while exhausting moves you forward in your grief towards a lighter and more peaceful life.
Saying things like I need to be strong for my kids. I need to be strong for my family. I need to be strong. You are so strong. All of these things imply that you cannot grieve. Because you need to be strong. To be human is to grieve, yet we treat grief like weakness like it’s something to be rid of as fast as possible. The thing with grief is this. That it will not just go away. It will not just disappear. It needs to be cared for and tended to. Grief needs to be acknowledged.
It seems to me, that the more we fight grief in the name of being strong, the more miserable we become. The more terrible we feel, because grief is still there, but now we have to pretend that we are okay. Now we have to put on a mask in front of everyone, including our kids, or should I say especially our kids, so that they think we are okay when we are dying on the inside.
Is this how we are supposed to live? Is this the life we are meant to live, slowly dying on the inside, empty, and hurting, because we need to show strength? YOUR CHILD DIED! You have said goodbye to an incredible human, an incredible person who you love and miss. This is no small deal. This is not just a little bump in the road. This is life-changing. And you do not need to pretend to be strong. What does that show others how grief is? What does it show other people, when they begin to grieve, how it’s okay to grieve? How does that teach your kids to grieve?
I don’t know if it’s our society, or if it’s just a human pride thing, but we do not want to need help from others. We want to pretend we can do it all ourselves, but you know what? We cannot. No one can do everything alone, and if you think you can, I’m sorry. We are not meant to do everything alone. So please stop pretending.
Okay. So, now that I can get off my soapbox about this. I want to talk a little bit about how I want to think about strength. What if strength was not putting on a mask, but taking the mask off? What if strength was setting up boundaries, and grieving in the way you need to? What if strength was having hard conversations with the people around you that you love, telling them what it’s like to miss your child forever?
What if strength was allowing the pain to come even though it hurts so bad? All of these things are seen as a weakness within ourselves, but in reality, they make you closer to people, they create more compassion and connection, they help others understand, and they give you the freedom to grieve. And, if someone doesn’t understand? They don’t need to have a say in your grief. They don’t need to have input.
What if the strength is actually in the allowing?
Letting go of the need to be strong, also gives you the ability to ask for help. The freedom of it. The joy in being human and connecting with others. You allow the people around you, who want to help, but you are pushing them away from helping and not even giving them a chance to show they care.
So, when we allow ourselves to grieve freely, embrace the pain, and sit with our pain, we create more freedom in our life. We are grieving, instead of grieving plus trying to pretend that we are okay, but trying to keep everything together, plus trying to never show we are hurting to others around us. Plus we get sick, medicate, keep busy, and run as fast from our grief because if we had to face it it would mean we are not strong.
So, today, I first want to send you the biggest hug if you have lost a child. I want you to know you are not alone. I also want you to know that you do not need to be strong. You do not need to do it all alone. You do not need to put on a mask. To grieve is human, and it is no small thing to say goodbye to your child.
Can you, today, either reach out for help, even if you don’t think you need it, or take small steps at taking off the mask? You will feel so much better when you can just show up as you are, grief and all because it is a part of who you are now.
As always, I intend to assist you on your grief journey, to hold a light in the darkness, and show you it’s possible to live a trigger-free existence, and a life filled with joy after your child dies.
I’m always holding on to hope for you until you are ready to hold it for yourself!
See you next week!
Have you felt anxiety after your child died?
The racing mind, unable to sleep, waiting for the next bad thing to happen, unable to breathe, panicky kind of anxiety, whole body riddled with anxiety?
Watch my free video on anxiety and grief below!
So that you can think clearly, feel calm in your body, and live your life without the chains of anxiety.
