The last year has been a long journey of emotional reflection, grieving, and learning.
One big thing I observed and learnt was this: Your grief makes people around you uncomfortable.
There is absolutely no one — or maybe just one or two people — in your circle with whom you can truly open up. People you think will sit with you and listen often don’t even attempt to do so. The reasons may be different. The most common one is that they simply don’t know what to say or how to comfort you. Another is that they don’t want to reopen your wounds.
Nobody wants to deal with the unpleasant parts of your life. As long as you seem okay on the surface, no one feels the need to know your actual mental state. And if by chance you try to speak about it, the topic is quietly changed or ignored. I have experienced this first-hand.
The truth is, you being “okay” is familiar. It is comfortable.
You being broken, confused, or vulnerable is not.
Projecting strength is acceptable. Showing weakness isn’t.
This was a hard fact to learn. And I learnt it the hard way.
I don’t expect everyone around me to check on me or sit through my pain. But I did expect it from a few very close ones.
What I’ve learnt through all this is simple: your grief is entirely your own. Do not expect anyone to fully understand it — not even your own family. Everyone grieves differently. There is no right or wrong way to do it.
Even if people mean well, you don’t have to accept everything they say. You don’t have to be strong just to meet societal expectations. You are allowed to break down. You are allowed to process your grief in your own way.
Some days feel lighter. Some days are unbearably heavy. And maybe that’s just how it is.
That’s what I am doing now — taking one day at a time. I listen to advice, but I do what feels right to me. I have stopped expecting others to understand my grief. This is my journey.
Writing in this blog is my way of processing it, in some small way. Maybe someday I will be able to think of Adi without tears, without my throat choking with pain.
That day is not today though!
For now, I will stop trying to be understood. I will allow myself to feel it all — the ache, the silence, the love that remains.
For now, I will continue — grieving, remembering, loving Adi in my own way. That is my truth, and I will stay with it.
