Permission to Grow: Choosing Life after Loss

In this next installment of my “Permission” series, I discuss giving myself permission to grow. Going through the trauma of Matt’s death prompted me to take an inventory of my life and ask the very large, somewhat vague question, “who am I?” So much of my identity and my future self was encased in the dreams Matt and I had together. It was comfortable; it was safe; and I believed that even if the road was rocky, we would handle it together. When he died, I lost all of that. It left me in a place of ambiguity, with so many unanswered questions. And while I knew that the only way to move is forward, I also had a very difficult time giving myself permission to “grow.”

In the earlier days of grief, it felt like the proposition of growth was almost dirty.

When I thought about changing and evolving, or even growing, it not only felt impossible, it felt wrong to even consider. Matt didn’t get that chance; we were supposed to GROW together. It felt unfair to Matt. Did it take Matt dying for me to grow? I will gladly not grow, thanks. I truly believed that my best days were behind me. With the hopes and dreams of a life we “should have had together” gone, it felt like that was the only plausible answer. I felt as though I must, and almost should, concede to that. Debilitating and uninspiring, but in so many ways, this felt like my truth and the cross I had to bear.

When I started blogging about this journey, it was cathartic. It helped me process a lot of my thoughts and feelings around the two years of intense grief, trauma, and change. It also helped me connect with you, my readers, catalyze the conversation around grief, and normalize talking about all of these intricacies that felt abnormal. I started to acknowledge that part of my journey forward, part of who I am, is my grief, which in turn, is rooted in my love for Matt. I gave myself permission to lay it all out there, be vulnerable, and address taboo topics that were often, and still are, difficult to write. It is through this process, through this connection, that I saw a glimmer of hope. I choose to believe that Matt inspired a lot of it from the other side; that he supports my “growth” and is guiding me from a place I can’t yet fathom.

Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that I must give myself permission to grow

I realized that so much of what I had accomplished in life came during times of uncertainty, of taking risks, of digging into the core of who I am and opening myself to the potential for growth. From my move to Baltimore to falling in love with Matt to having a baby to A Matter of Hope; all of this came by pushing outside my comfort zone, pouring my heart in, and being ok with risking failure, potential backlash, and change. Without realizing it, I was already growing, even if it didn’t feel that way. Even if I didn’t want it to feel that way.

Last August, as A Matter of Hope crept up on us, I noticed a lot of overwhelm about the event coming to an end. I decided to hire Krista St. Germain, a fellow widowed mom and life coach. I had already worked through a lot of the trauma of Matt’s diagnosis and death; but I felt stuck in this place of “where do I go from here?” I had been following the practices of the Life Coach School for quite some time and knew that I wanted to hire a coach trained in thought work. I saw a video Krista had filmed and she specifically said “I thought my best days were behind me.” If I could insert the hand raise emoji here, I would.

I had a lot of work to do on rebuilding, from the ground up. I had to allow myself to consider the future and maybe, perhaps, I’m supposed to have my best days ahead of me. Maybe Matt wants that for me too.

What will my story be? What will my legacy be? These are questions I never considered so intensely until the brevity of human life really hit me in the face. I’m not sure if other grievers out there can relate; if you’ve felt an earnest calling to take a life inventory as a means of investigating how you truly want to live.

I’ve learned so much about myself after providing the permission to grow these past six months. Now what?

Over the course of six months, and still today, I peeled back the layers to regain my sense of self. I embraced the parts of “old Christina” I loved and uncovered new realizations about what I want in this next chapter. With all of this coming up, I needed to take a step back and coach myself through it. As I sat in my state of overhwelm a few weeks ago, six months into this journey of rebuilding and redefining, I pondered so much about my future self:

What do I want from myself now, for my future self, and for Bryson?

How do I want to show up in this world? 

How will my relationship with Matt integrate in with my journey forward? Because that is a non-negotiable.

I’ve never felt a stronger desire to help others; to show up in a way that empowers people through grief and loss. I want to help people find power in the messy aftermath of loss, when they’re ready. I want to help others capture how to integrate their love and subsequent loss in a fulfilling next chapter.

In April, I begin my life coach certification through the Life Coach School with the intention of helping other people in the grieving space carve out their path forward.

There is no “fixing” grief; there is only bringing it along and finding space for it within a new space. I toggled back and forth about sharing this for a variety of reasons, but mainly, I feared the rejection or thoughts of other people. Life Coaching is still a relatively new industry, often misunderstood or misrepresented. It’s not therapy or counseling, which is an incredible resource, especially in, but definitely not limited to, early grief. I can explain more about coaching in a different post. Just as Matt inspired me to get my initial coaching certification, he’s inspiring me now to level up and truly, make a difference. I’m giving myself permission to take a chance on investing in my growth, evolution, and propensity to empower others.

Of course, so much of my heart lies in writing and sharing content around this next chapter, in the hopes that it continues to help, inspire, and give you some insight into the world of post-traumatic growth, mixed in with the reality of living alongside grief. If you haven’t signed up yet for my weekly newsletter, I’ll be sharing more in that on the regular as well. 

Anyway, here’s to giving myself permission to grow:  in love, in life, in all of it. I know how proud Matt is of me, and how supportive he is of all that this next chapter brings. Next week, I’ll be sharing the final installment of “giving myself permission” to be OK and NOT OK all at the same time.

Until next time friends,

Xtina