This is My Humility

Many thoughts run through my mind daily as someone who invites the world into her life consistently.  And consciously.  I am aware of what I put out into social media or in person and I am not bothered by any of it.

I've come to realize that my work both professionally and personally is mine and mine alone and what I share is exactly what I wish to share.  

There is a common thread with those around me that don't know me as deeply as my tight circle that I appear to be OK.  You know the " Well she looks just fine," or "She sounds okay."  This does not bother me because in those moments I probably am to whatever degree I can be.  Not everyone needs to know my deepest emotions, and those that do get to see the darker side of deep grieving, understand it, and understand where I am at.

There is no right or wrong to grieving and there is no point in me walking around with some large black cloud hanging over me for everyone to see and ultimately comment on.  It does more harm than good to be constantly reminded of what I have lost (we have lost) because there are many, many bright days and when those bright days appear I revel in them.  

It is absolutely okay for me to go a day without tears slipping down my cheeks.  I think of my loss, of Ry, every day, but not every day is full of the sadness of that loss. There are days I remember his antics, his smiles and I don't feel sad, I feel the love. And yes it is MY loss.  No one loved Ryan the way I loved Ryan.  I can say that with my full chest.

So I might not always look like I'm in deep grieving.  I might appear to be laughing and loving life.  It's not a facade.  This is what grieving looks like for me.  And only for me.  There are still the moments I will be driving by a soccer field and feel that every present lump in my throat