Permission.

I wrote this a few months ago when things were pretty dark. When the west coast was blazing on fire, rioting in the streets, deep in isolation and hope was thin. My family was separated, displaced, waiting desperately on news to bring us back together. Though today, we are reunited and my mental state is far better I still feel this blog is important and relevant to share.

This year is heavy, If there were ever a word to describe it. Covid-19 still raging across the globe– perhaps worse then ever, schooling from home seems to be the future we must get used to. Political divid drifts further and further apart, and the fight for basic human rights are still being spat on— we are literally living in fear. Fear for our future. Fear for our lives. Fear for hope.

An endless year of pain, suffering, and cancelations. Whenever you try come up for air you just get tossed back in those ferocious waves, left to tread in exhaustion. When does it become too much? Some days are hard— in so many ways, in so many forms. Ways that some can empathetically nod in agreement to. Hard in ways that are difficult to say aloud, in fear. Perhaps, your struggles are trivial in relation to what’s happening in this world. Huge monumental happenings that we can’t and shouldn’t take away from. However, it can also feel isolating to those who may be fighter smaller (in comparison) personal fights in their own life. In the same tune, sharing successes can feel equally difficult, even more so perhaps. In fear of coming across as insensitive or tone deaf to reality.

Writing used to bring a sense of catharsis for me. A safe, yet vulnerable place to put my incoherent thoughts into comprehension. A way to share pieces of me that I’m not always comfortable sharing, verbally. Lately I find myself struggling to actually put anything of real significance out in the atmosphere in fear of these very judgments. It is thick and fierce out in the world right now. I’d love to sit back and say I don’t care. But that’s not entirely true, I will always try to protect myself and my family from hurt that I can direct. Ive scaled back from all forms of social media and blogging for quite some time. It hasn’t felt natural. For me, if these platforms cause more distress then joy, then it’s just not worth it. So I stepped back and have kept things pretty simple. It can be draining having constant negativity and hate forced in your face. Its helped my mental state significantly to shift media toxicity and negativity towards things I can control. However, as time goes on, and the state of the world is not changing any time soon I realize it’s also important to face it and confront what makes you uncomfortable, share your voice, even at your most vulnerable.

I have a difficult time trying to place my own joy and my own hardships in spaces I can’t seem to find. Nothing seems to fit, it all feels awkward. We’ve been dealing with some of our own hurdles as a family over the past year and frankly we’ve just been trying to stay afloat, tackling one task at a time. Doing our best to make sure our kids are as unaffected as possible as we navigate these strange times. But I wonder. I wonder about those around me who are also feeling lost. Feeling like they may be drowning. Feeling like they can’t express their own pain, in fear. I fear many are shutting down their grief, their worries because they can’t compare to the bigger, harder, grandeur problems happening around us. I fear those around me are not sharing their wins, their own happiness. If there is anything we need more of in this world its joy, but most importantly a sense of hope. Am I alone in this?

We forget people are still dealing with heart ache, miscarriage, lost jobs, disease, addiction, debt — parents navigating school for the first time, working from home, isolation and much more on TOP of global distruction. These are not trivial. These still are real and worthy of feeling and needing. We forget people are winning races, beating cancer, finding faith, graduating school, creating life. These are worthy of praise and celebration. Even in the darkest of hours, we always need hope that things will get better. I’m trying to allow myself the grace to share the we’s and the woes, even if uncomfortable. Because I’d never want anyone to dumb down their truths because they were afraid it wasn’t important enough.

So here is me. Saying out loud that some days really [expletive] suck! Covid, politics, race wars, economic downfall has all wreaked havoc on our lives. On so many levels— Basic and substantial. This year has rocked our worlds and will continue to do so for quite some time. You can still be an advocate, an activist, a spokesperson, a warrior and still require help and support in your own life. You can still be compassionate and sensitive, yet still share your sunshine.

If we keep pushing down our struggles our pain, or even our triumph, in fear, eventually it’s going to boil over and won’t be so easy to sift through to pick up our pieces. If we don’t allow chance for happiness then we have failed. I give permission to anyone to grieve your own pain and I promise to listen without judgment. I give you permission to beam and to laugh. Don’t forget at a basic level we are all human, red, blue, black, white, male, female. We all are worthy of our feelings, big or small.

That is and has been my intention of this blog, that even in the darkest of days I hope we can all find a little sunshine.