The 10 Things I’ve Learned from the Absence

I’ve been sitting with something for a while now, something that’s felt heavy on my heart, so this is a tough one for me to put down in the blog. But the rule when I said to myself I was going to do this was that I would be honest.

So, here goes.

When you go through grief, and I don’t just mean losing someone to death, but the grief of breakups, lost friendships, and even lost versions of who you used to be.

You start noticing not just what’s missing but who’s missing. Well, at least I do.

Actually, this is about me, so let me just say. I started noticing who drifts away, who “gave me space,”

Those that went quiet because they don’t know what to do.

And I’ve realised that as painful as it’s been to experience this, it has taught me so much about what it means to bepresent.

So here’s what I’ve learned, not just for myself, but maybe for all of us learning how to show up better for the people that we love:

Presence matters more than solving it. You don’t have to fix anything. You don’t need the perfect words or some grand gesture. Just sit with me. Just be. That means everything to me.

Giving me space isn’t the same as disappearing. Please check in. Even if you are not sure.  Even if you think I need “time” or “room to process” Having a simple “I’m here if you need” really does mean the world.

Come Awkward - It really is ok . If you don’t know what to say, say that. If you’re scared of saying the wrong thing, come anyway. I’d rather you come around awkward instead of waiting to be perfect.

Grief isn’t just about death. I have grieved so many things over the last few years. From love that’s gone, friendships we’ve lost, identities we’ve outgrown. Please don’t make me explain why it hurts.

I probably don’t know what I need. I know myself pretty well now, and let me tell you, if you wait for me to tell you how you can help, we’ll both be waiting forever. Send the message.

You don’t need to measure our friendship by how “helpful” you feel. I promise that you are enough for me just by being there. You don’t need to rescue me or cheer me up, or make me laugh. You just need to stay.

You don’t have to have gone through this to support me  It’s true that going through your own grief gives you a different kind of empathy. But you can still be here.

My silence isn’t your failure. If I go quiet, don’t assume you’ve done something wrong. I’m just finding my way through. Please don’t give up on me.

Love is in the small things. The “thinking of you” text. The random voice note. The meme you sent because it made you laugh. These are the moments that remind me you’re there.