Yesterday, I let myself be sad.
It doesn’t matter why; that information is irrelevant to this essay. What matters is I didn’t talk myself out of it, or let any (well-meaning) people talk me out of it either.
For 364 days a year, that’s what I do (although, not always very successfully, to be fair). It’s probably what you do, too. But yesterday was my birthday and my birthday is a difficult day for me, moreso in recent years than in the past. This year, as a birthday gift to myself, I decided to honor my feelings, to just feel them, and not push them away or pretend they weren’t there.
I didn’t deny them. I didn’t practice gratefulness or remind myself how lucky I am. The truth is I am lucky, and I am grateful but guess what – even lucky and grateful people get sad.
It doesn’t mean they don’t appreciate all the richness in their lives. It doesn’t mean they aren’t grateful enough. It doesn’t mean that others don’t have it worse or that they need a dose of perspective served up to them.
It’s nobody’s fault that I was sad and it was nobody’s responsibility to un-sad me. I didn’t need to be unsadded, as a matter of fact.
Some days we just need to feel our feelings, even the hard ones.
The Jester
The jester always makes ‘em laugh
Those words will be her epitaph
For reasons none can comprehend,
The jester’s disappeared again
Don’t ask the girl curled up in bed
She can’t even raise her head
She doesn’t know or doesn’t care
Immersed in her hard-won despair
The room is dark, the blinds are drawn
It’s quiet when the laughter’s gone
The jester’s scent clings to its host
The sad girl misses her the most
I appreciate those of you who knew it was my hard day, and who just said “Well, I’ll just be over here quietly letting you be sad.” Thank you for not trying to fix it, because you couldn’t. Thank you for not trying to talk me out of it.
I hope I can be that friend for you too, when you need it. I tend to want to attack problems so it’s hard for me to just sit quietly, but I’m going to work on that.
There is so much support out there for practicing gratefulness – journals and wall-words. Canvas signs and Eastern philosophers. Facebook posts and memes. Where is the support for practicing letting ourselves – and others – feel sadness? Why is sadness hidden away, buried under gratefulness, denied, and sweet-talked into the dark corners of our souls? Is it because we’re afraid of it? Because we don’t know how to handle it, our own or others?
I don’t know those answers, but I’m going to try to honor my feelings of sadness more and hopefully dispel the shame that comes with what is perceived as unearned or undeserved sadness.
I have some news for you. You’d better sit down; this could be hard to hear.
I’ll probably be sad again. It happens – and not just on my birthday. But don’t worry – it always passes and the part of me that is easier to be around will take the wheel soon enough.
Thanks for loving me anyway.
