I spend a lot more time these days looking at pictures of my life before. Of the person who I was before it all. Before Athena died, before career burnout, before a failed and difficult dog adoption. I’ve been chatting a lot recently with my dear friend at Life of An Empath, Tonesha, about that word. TRAUMA.

I am always struck by the way it sits in your mouth and feels heavy on your tongue. The manner in which it echoes, even after the word has long been said. The weight of trauma reminds me of how closely it is related to grief.

Just like grief, trauma is measured in the before and after. What do I mean? Well, for example, I now catalog time by how much of it has passed since Athena left the mortal realm. Or when my ex-best friends were like family. Before heartaches and betrayals, and after recognizing the slow chipping away of joy and ease. 

Sometimes when I look at these pictures of the before, especially the ones of myself, I zoom into the eyes. I stare deeply at those soft pools of endless night. I look at the barely there lines that cradle those eyes and I see light. I see true effervescence. Now, those eyes are guarded, those lines drawn in deeper, like boundaries on a map. These are the eyes of someone who is in her after. 

So where does one go from here? Forward. That is all there is left. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop counting time in the days since loss, I’m not sure I know how-to. But what I’m learning is how interconnected the two are. And how grief and trauma keeps you bound, if you do not find an outlet for release. If you do not receive the lesson. 

What does this look like? Most days, I don’t know. Some days, it means vigorous journaling, constant meditation and vulnerable prayer. Sometimes it means I simply allow myself to feel so deeply that all there is left to do is break open, gently and purposely. I cry more these days than I ever have before. The tears flow so freely and unexpectedly. An exercise in just letting go. A practice of peace. A path towards soul growth and healing.

I am so moved by the most delicate things, like my nephews telling me they love me, my brother giving me a hug, my sister in law bringing me medicine when I’m not feeling well, Delilah (the remaining family dog) running towards me with true exuberance, my mother making my favorite meal, my father sending me an old photo of the family, a stranger hugging their pet, and so much more. 

Some people reading this may be surprised to learn this about me; some may not. Regardless, I believe it’s important that I share what I’m learning, how I’m growing and who I am becoming. 

My pain has made me clear. My trauma and grief have set me free. But only because I was willing to embrace the lesson that only can come in emotional introspection of the past and our present emotional state. I am not afraid of what comes now in this after, because I have unpacked my before. I’m not yet unburdened of my saddens and I may never be. Yet, I’m letting myself feel every inch of it, so I can make space for happiness too.  

I’ll end with this wisdom from my father (with a sprinkling of me) - there is nothing left to luck or chance, simply messages and signs from God, should you choose to see it. I hope that you make a choice to be fully awake, eyes closed, but soul wide open. 

Author’s Note:

Grace Ewura-Esi Andrews  is a digital creator, storyteller, producer, writer, and co-founder of The Empath Accelerator.  Empathy is her way of life. Check out more thought provoking posts from Grace on her blog:  A Sprinkling of Grace and follow her on the socials - @a.sprinkling.of.grace on IG and @GraceEwuraEsi on Twitter!