I have never been one to talk about how I am feeling. There are probably two people in this world who I really talk to about things, mostly because I have a hard time processing things by talking it out.
Processing feelings is an internal and personal journey for me. Something I have learned over the years is that writing is my outlet — it’s easier for me to figure things out by writing them out than by reading or talking them through.
Writing has helped me process the loss of many loved ones, my parents’ divorce, my college decisions, but recently, it has helped me grieve the loss of my mother.
My mom is the main subject of my writing for a couple of reasons. One is because I like writing about what is on my mind and she is usually the one on my mind and has been since the day she died. There were things then that I needed to get out, things that I didn’t want to talk to other people about so, instead, I wrote them down.
My automatic response when I started trying to process through my mother’s death was to write about it and it’s helped.
Finding comfort in writing about my mom doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me sad — it does — but it also brings me peace. Whenever I write it also gives me a dedicated space to remember the person she was. It’s turned into my way of sharing her with other people and reminding myself that she was a person.
Writing about her helps me. It helps me remember that I want people to look at me and see my mother’s best qualities. I strive to be more like her every day and I try to channel that through my writing.
If I can use my loss to help others then it is worth writing about. It is worth feeling a little sad when I write. It is worth being vulnerable.