Let Me Grieve: A Plea for Understanding After Loss

In my opinion, one of the greatest title sequences of all time is the beginning of “Bridget Jones’s Diary.” This hilarious comedy is about an early thirty-something woman trying to take control of her unstable life by beginning a diary. In the title sequence, Bridget (protagonist and ensuing comedic goddess) is seen lounging about on her couch in cartoonish penguin pajamas while simultaneously smoking a cigarette, guzzling wine and drunkenly, but enthusiastically singing, “All by Myself” by Celine Dion. I think what makes this sequence so brilliant is the immediate relatability between the audience and Bridget. Everyone has, at some point, felt the immense weight of their problems on their shoulders. A weight and grief so heavy, you don’t want to see anyone or do anything. You just want to tell people, “Let me grieve! Please!”

Let Me Grieve with Hot Cheetos

Today I had the opportunity to channel my inner Bridget as I felt the weight of grief and loss. Drug of choice? Reese’s and Jalapeno Cheetos. Oh, and some playlist on YouTube labeled, “Saddest Songs of all Time: A playlist for the Broken Heart.”

I thought about Bridget as I made an imaginary music video in my kitchen. Complete with a dish brush microphone, oversized T-shirt and lots of perfectly timed tears while gazing off into the distance. Yeah, Bridget and I were like one spirit this morning. I was just thankful that I could feel and communicate with the part of myself where my humor lives. Especially because, for the past few days, humor became lost to me.

Trying Everything

This past week I’ve tried lots of different things to damper some of the sadness within me. Yesterday, much to my husband’s surprise, I cut my hair and dyed it purple and blue. The day before that I stayed in bed all day. I turned off my phone, locked the door, closed the shades and pretended I wasn’t home both times someone knocked at my door.

Three days ago, I spent most of the day with tears in my eyes. So much so, in fact, that the skin around them began to dry and flake. But today, I was Bridget, and now I’m writing. Right now I’m mourning, and that’s okay. It’s okay because I know that allowing myself to grieve this loss in this moment is crucial to how I will feel long-term.

Feel it now, or feel it later.

One of the most important things I’ve learned throughout my journey in this life is how crucial it is to take time to grieve. Even if I have to require of others that they let me grieve.

I spent an entire childhood and young adulthood of suppressing grief and pretending it didn’t exist. This was far more detrimental than any of the actual traumas I experienced. I’ve learned that running from your feelings is far worse than actually just feeling them. I’ve also learned that you should never have to be ashamed for how you feel about something, or how deeply it affects you. Feelings should never be attached to shame.

Let me grieve. There’s no shame in grief.

One of my favorite quotes is by Daniell Koepke, founder of the Internal Acceptance Movement. “There’s no right or wrong way to feel because feelings aren’t good or bad- they’re just information.” She also says this, “Your trauma is real and valid and you deserve a space to talk about it. It isn’t desperate or pathetic or attention-seeking. It’s self-care. It’s inconceivably brave. And regardless of the magnitude of your struggle, you’re allowed to take care of yourself by processing and unloading some of the pain you carry. Your pain matters. Your experience matters. And your healing matters. Nothing and no one can take that away.”

No one has a right to tell you how quickly you should recover from a loss, or attempt to diminish the depth of your suffering. You get to stand at the helm of your grief process. Whether it’s the end of a relationship, the loss of a job, a pet, or a family member. No one but you can fully understand the breadth of your own grief, except you

. That’s why it’s so importantly not only to be gentle with ourselves, but with others. There is no ranking system involved in bad experiences. If something is difficult for someone, then it just is. There’s no need to compare their experience with our own or anyone else’s.

Thankfully, we live in a world where we get to be different from each other. But this also means we must understand each other. Something that may be debilitating for someone else, may not affect you at all, and vice versa.

Let Me Grieve Like Bridget

As for me, I think I’ll probably continue finding solace in Bridget’s methods. Cycling through diets, curse words and unscrupulous men. Well, probably not the men. But I think Bridget has the right idea when it comes to self-improvement after sadness. “I realize it has become too easy to find a diet to fit in with whatever you happen to feel like eating and that diets are not there to be picked and mixed but picked and stuck to, which is exactly what I shall begin to do once I’ve eaten this chocolate croissant.” ― Helen Fielding, Bridget Jones’s Diary