holding heavy.

For the first time in a long time, the only heavy that I am holding is my own…

…and there is something notably freeing yet terrifying about the thought. 

I’ve come to the realization lately, that holding space for heavy has become an all too familiar experience for me, and the absence of holding heavy (read: peace of not having to hold grief) leads me to moments of great anxiety. Perhaps it’s because I’ve known grief and heavy feelings my whole life, or the fact that I’ve been privy to juggling so many spaces of heavy, that I find myself most at home with it.

The common misconception about holding space for heavy is that we have to “fix” it; that we can’t let the things that weigh us down, simmer or sit for too long. While this may be true in the long run, it is so easy for us to forget that we all process our heavy differently. Many of us will choose to ignore it till it hits us like a freight train, while others will embrace due process by gritting their teeth and throwing themselves wholeheartedly into the unknown.

Holding space for heavy is learning to understand the boundaries of what we can and cannot do; what you are willing and not willing to be a participant in. It is about allowing the one in grief to lead their process. To let heavy bleed, scab over and bleed again. To not get upset when grief spills all in front of you, and to never take anything personally. It is about knowing we will never get it right the first time, nor will we ever know the answers to everything along the way.

There is always an out when it comes to holding heavy, and it is an individual decision we all choose to make. We were never meant to hold another’s heavy permanently. Making space for grief is as about making space for the water in the fish tank, as it is about the fish within it. No person should ever be the everything and anything to anyone, and the understanding of that, allows each of us to come to the full realization of our own resilience within the spaces we once had the courage to carry.