I’m Proud of Us

This summer I had a therapy session with a new person and gave her a brief overview of things that have happened in the past some-odd years… lost a child, got married, had cancer, moved…

“Whoa whoa whoa,” she said. “Let’s just pause for a moment.”

She asked me to say more about the baby, my relationship with Greg, and the fact that we are now married.

When I was done, she said something that sounded almost odd.

“You two should be really proud of yourselves.”

She let the silence between us linger for a moment before continuing.

“It’s a big deal for a couple to make it through the death of a child, no matter the circumstances. Given the details of your situation especially, you should be proud of yourselves and each other.”

It brought tears to my eyes, much like it does even now, to reflect on how hard it was to find common ground amid the hurricane of emotions and how many times we almost gave up.

Since then, I’ve been more aware of given myself and others credit for navigating life’s waters — especially when we’re on a white water river in a rowboat, or the river feels infinitely long (looking at you, pandemic).

I think we're bad at acknowledging things we’ve been through for many reasons:

1. We don’t see the situation clearly.  We’ve been “in it” and maybe it feels like it took forever to get through. Or movement has been gradual (as it usually is), so we haven’t charted the changes. Or it feels like we’re still there, so there’s nothing to celebrate.

2. We expect so much more than what is realistic.  I wanted to be “over” my grief months into it, not able to understand the magnitude of what I was going through. It also seemed like if Greg and I made it through, it meant we’d be “stronger for it” and things would be perfect in our relationship, but that isn’t the case. We have issues like any other couple.

3. It’s natural to focus on how terrible the thing is/was.  The emphasis is often on the most awful part, and shifting the focus to pride can feel awkward. I’m not talking about putting a rainbow bandaid on everything. I am suggesting we work with our emotions (and maybe a professional) so we don’t get addicted to a one-sided story of how bad things are.

4. We don’t want to go back and think about the hard thing.  We want to move forward. Acknowledging that we made it through a challenging time means talking about it, and that makes some people uncomfortable. Recently someone said to me, “Oh, that was so long ago,” when I mentioned the baby. Well, maybe in dog years, but not for my heart. (For reference, it's been 7 years.) Reflecting back is about integrating a part of your life into the whole of your story.

Here's what we know: everything you’ve been through informs who you are now.   This kind of reflection might be another way to connect with gratitude in this season. I know I often shy away from the idea of being “proud of” myself (thanks patriarchy), but since this conversation this summer, I’ve been trying it on. It feels good. I feel more whole for naming these parts of my life. That I was cared for, that I am resourceful and that I made it through things I didn’t think I would.

And here’s what I want to say to you:

I’m proud of you. You’ve done your best in some really hard situations. You’ve made it through big losses and disappointments, through physical pain, through heartbreak. And here you are. Still doing your best with what you have, putting one foot in front of the other. You might feel a little tattered, but you have also been softened. You know more about yourself now and you are more human for it. And that's a beautiful thing.

Be on the lookout for an invitation to share your story more directly.

Till then, with love,
Michelle