Taking time to reflect and process estrangement has always been really helpful for me.
Sometimes I can feel myself needing time to feel my feelings and just think about the things that are hard to think about. It feels like the sadness I’ve been trying to ignore is just sitting right in the front of my brain. Life can get very busy and it's hard to even make space and time to process estrangement or just “feel” it again. But, as we know, healing is not linear, and some days it just feels like I need to be sad and think about my family and where I am now.
So, I try to let myself think about the things that are hard to think about. It’s uncomfortable, but I also know ignoring those thoughts when they need to be acknowledged is not going to help. When this happens, I like to go on a walk. I get some fresh air and I let my mind travel as my feet do too. I try to give myself permission to think about things that will make me sad, knowing I will probably just be sad afterward. I remind myself it will help in the long run, and it usually does.
Sometimes these walks bring reflections that I want to write about. Writing to process feelings, or just writing my thoughts down on paper can be really cathartic and bring some clarity to my scrambled brain. During one particular walk, when I was going through a bout of missing my family and feeling the weight and confusion of that sadness, I sat down on a log, pulled out my journal and wrote:
Sometimes when I go on a walk…
Sometimes when I go on a walk I see my parents. They’re walking side by side. The man is tall. The woman, shorter. They stride slowly, taking their time, enjoying their walk. The woman’s hair is turning gray. The man is wearing a hat. She has her jacket tied around her waist. He’s holding her hand.
I walk past them, trying to not make my eyes linger too long. I don’t want them to notice me staring. For it isn’t my parents. And if it were, I’d walk the other way.
Sometimes I feel like I miss them. The simplicity of family. The delight in having a home. The safety of relatives. But none of it really was simple, delightful, or safe, was it?
I realize on my walk that I am not traveling light. I am carrying the weight of this loss. The grief, the pain, the number of new circumstances I have to face when estranged. I think I thought that cutting out my family would provide me freedom from the sadness and the pain, and in some ways it has. But I think the sadness has just changed.
I thought eventually healing from them would mean the sadness would go away. That maybe healing meant I would no longer miss them. That I no longer wished for things to change. But I realize today, as I walk past those strangers, that the sadness is one I must carry. I must carry it for my lifetime.
And maybe that’s okay. Maybe everyone has sadness they have to carry. For I am not the only one that has experienced loss or pain. And the weight of the sadness gets easier to carry, because I get stronger and learn how to shed some of the weight.
And on my walk, I get to choose my path. At the beginning it feels both lonely and free. I am the one to choose who I want to be. There’s no one beside me but me. There’s peace in that, for I get to be myself and learn how to choose who to bring with me. It seems like there’s just as much unlearning as there’s learning, and maybe it’s even more.
Learning to walk with the weight of my world. It’s a hard path, but it’s one I know I don't regret. I have to find a new route since I left my last path. That path had no hope, no love, and no choice. I now have the freedom to construct my new world. A world of my own.
I'm sure I will always see my parents on my walks. The shadows of two people walking hand in hand. But I know it’s not them, and that makes me feel safe. I can hold space for my sadness and learn to live with the pain. But I will keep walking. I will get stronger. And hopefully someday I will have people who will hold my hand as I walk.
***
I find myself often finding strength through my writing. I reflect on the progress I have made and the hope I now have for the future. But, I also hold space for the sadness. A sadness I learn I must carry instead of trying to bury it away. A sadness that doesn’t have to feel like a burden, but rather a lesson I can carry with me. I can’t reject this sadness, because it would be rejecting part of my story – part of myself. And I must learn to love all the parts of myself.
Whether you can relate to my story or not, I hope you think about ways to process your feelings and take time to reflect. This can look like walks, journaling, art, talking to a friend, listening to relaxing music, etc. But if you want to try writing, I have provided some journaling prompts below if you don’t know where to start. Take what you like, leave what you don’t, or come up with your own.
What do I carry with me as I navigate life post estrangement? (Sadness, anger, fear, hope, love, etc). How do these serve me? What do I want to carry moving forward?
How has your estrangement made you stronger? What lessons has it taught you that you cherish?
What does forgiveness mean to me? Do I need to forgive myself for anything?
What would my child self be proud of about me now? Is there anything I wish I could tell them?
What does acceptance mean to me? What does it look like?
There can be great reflection through journaling, or it can just be a bullet point list of random thoughts and feelings. Either way, I find it helpful in processing what I am going through and what I am feeling. I hope you were able to relate to my writing or just get some ideas for yourself on what reflections you might have.
Remember, healing is a process and one that requires self-compassion and patience.
Article by Em, Together Estranged Newsletter Coordinator
***Disclaimer: Em is not a certified mental health professional. This article is written as peer-to-peer support for the Together Estranged Community. If you are having a psychiatric emergency, please seek professional help.
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