"You've Changed"

Imagine waking up in an alternate reality where everything is different, and nothing looks familiar, but you're still expected to function normally. Now, imagine that you're not actually in an alternate reality, but rather, your "here I am - alive and not dreaming" reality. That is what grief feels like to me; waking up every single day – disoriented, confused, and for a brief moment, blissfully unaware that my heart is about to shatter again for the gazillionth time.  

I'm embarrassed to admit that in this alternate, weird new reality I now live in, I struggle to remember who I used to be. That sounds weird, but honestly – it's hard for me to remember what it felt like to be the girl I was before mom died. The upbeat, bend over backward, do anything for anyone girl. The girl who always looked for the bright side. The girl who was the social butterfly at work. The girl who always made it her mission to keep a lot of friends living in a lot of different places together. I mean… WHO WAS SHE?!?

I'm not saying that I'm selfish now, or that I find excuses not to help my friends, or that I never have fun or laugh anymore. It's not like I live each day in dreary darkness surrounded by storm clouds. But, what I am saying is that grief and loss have changed me. A LOT. 

One of my favorite friends sent me Rachel Hollis' new book “Didn't See That Coming” just a few days after my therapist challenged me to really look at my “before and after” and do what I do best… write about it. This would have been a lot more fun if my “before and after” were compliments of a sweet “glow-up” (that's what the kids call it these days, right?) or a bomb new haircut, but alas, here I am – trying to figure out all the ways ‘post-dead-mom’ Maggie is different than ‘super happy all the time when mom was still alive’ Maggie. I digress – my point to this is that the book came at a perfect time because it gave me some direction to an assignment I had zero interest in tackling. And while I haven't finished the book yet, I took a lot of things away from it. One of my favorite quotes just felt perfect to lead with… so, here we go.

“When humans go through something hard, they react in one of two ways. They come out the other side either better or worse. It's impossible to walk through hell and leave it the same way you went in.”

The verdict is still out on which side I'm on, but here's to hoping that it will eventually be on the “better” side.

“I think one of the hardest things about going through a world-rocking, life-changing experience is that you come out the other side as someone totally different, only your mind is still processing what's happened as who you were, not as who you are now.”

I love this quote, too, because I feel it with every ounce of my being. I am different. I know that I am different. I know that the people in my life recognize these differences. But the thing is – I am still trying to process the “who” I was 659 days ago. And that, my friends, is no easy feat. 

One of the biggest changes I've noticed in myself over the last (almost) two years is that I no longer find bullshit reasons to hide my feelings. Fighting to be positive and happy and upbeat every day is damn exhausting, and I don't know why I told myself I had to be that person before. Living through this insufferable grief has made me realize that trying to hide these ugly, angry feelings about what happened is not helping anyone. 

So here it is. I am SO fucking pissed that mom got cancer. 

I look back at some of the blogs I wrote for her CaringBridge page, and I just loath my past self. Yes – I wanted to be positive for mom. Yes – I wanted to hold on to every ounce of hope that she would live to see so many more years. But in all my writing and posting, I left out so many raw emotions because I was afraid that people would think less of me. The “new” me has found a unique balance between caring about what “MY” people think and not giving a flying moo-cow about pleasing others. I no longer worry about making people uncomfortable talking about death or upsetting them by telling the truth about how I feel. And if that makes you mad, I'm sorry. 

Just kidding. I'm totally not. I just told you I don't give a flying moo-cow about it.

New “post-dead mom” Maggie has also learned a lot about boundaries. Not like a “you can't cross this line and come into my bubble” boundary, but more of a realizing what's healthy for me and what I need, and only allowing things into my life that fit those two significant characteristics boundary. Boundaries were not a comfortable idea for me to accept or come to terms with, but apparently, Rachel Hollis felt the same way.

"I asked my therapist how I should know where or when I needed a boundary. She told me that whenever someone in my life consistently did something that upset me, but I didn't comment on it because I thought I was being selfish to admit that it was hurting me, that was where I needed a boundary. This is sort of revolutionary for me because I have been made to believe that there is no greater negative attribute than being selfish. In the past, I have done things that slowly destroyed me rather than risking upsetting others, but I now understand that we are allowed to state what we need without shame and without holding the recrimination of others.”

GIRL, I FEEL THAT. Unlike Rachel, though, I didn't ask my therapist where or when I should implement boundaries because I didn't realize that I needed them… but boy, has she proved me wrong. I'm not going to get into all of that now, but let me tell you, when you figure out how to ask for what you need (even if it takes a reaaalllyyyy long time) and how to get rid of the toxic shit in your life, it feels pretty damn good. I have spent so much of my life trying to squeeze into the mold of a girl I thought people wanted me to be. And because of that, I never realized that I was forgoing boundaries to "be there" and do things for others at a 100% complete loss of myself. Thanks, grief, for helping me realize I deserve more than that. And thanks for helping me remember my worth and that I'm allowed to be happy and say how I feel without worrying that others will gossip about what a sad mess I am most days.

Losing mom has changed me. 

Grief has changed me. 

And I refuse to feel bad about that anymore.

"I'm sorry that you have to hear this, but I love you enough to tell you the truth – your life will never go back to the way it was. Whatever it is you lived through has changed you. There is no way you will ever unsee what you've seen or unknow what you know. When one thing changes, everything changes. Life won't ever be the same. You're different now, and so the world looks different too." (Rachel Hollis)

Alright, Rachel. I get it. But like, now what?

Who am I now?

I still have no idea. But I'm trying like hell to figure that out.