tarynitup

Tonight, I was taking a shower and I didn’t see it at the time, but I was preparing for a ‘cry from the soul’ shower. My birthday being a couple of days ago and it being the first one without my dad, I was like “oh, ok, time to randomly grieve… cool” and I truly fucking lost it. Sobbing so hard while also hoping if ghosts are real that they don’t come around during shower time (random thought from time to time, leave it alone) and midway through- I realized I wasn’t just grieving him. I was grieving the version of myself I felt die when he died… I just didn’t have the words to say it.

to the lion cub with her claws ready to come out-

i know fear is all you’ve learned to know. you’ve spent the last 31 years watching rooms, ready for hell to break loose at any moment, holding things together because the fear of something happening was bigger than the love we had for ourself. the fact that you didn’t know how to love yourself was not ever your fault. it is the result of two parents who loved you, but poured from cups that were cracked.

and i need you to know… you did that job so well. you kept us alive. you became strong earlier than you ever should have had to- and you became stronger than some people ever could be. you taught us how to read rooms, micro-expressions, changes in tone, the way people smile with their eyes when it’s genuine. you loved people that didn’t know how to love you back- and you loved them deeply.

you kept going because stopping was never an option. you knew you were different your entire life- with nobody ever stopping to listen to you about it and you shoved it down so far deep, it took a long time to come out… but it’s okay.

you were told “he loves you” as your dad was running away from his own problems. you started to measure yourself to the standard of being “too much” and thinking that you over-loved him so much and that’s why he left. that isn’t why. he couldn’t beat his own battles.

You became hyper-aware because we learned danger could AND would happen at any moment. You had anxiety before you even know what emotions were because you knew something wasn’t right.

but you also laid in the grass and stared at the clouds- making shapes and thinking of different places you would go as soon as you could. envious of the stick and a bandana move you had watched in movies… you planned escapes. you were curious about the world and about people, and you found the person in the room that needed kindness the most. you didn’t want to ask for help but you were the first one to give it. and it’s important that you know- we kept all of that… and we grew that love into so much more.

our lack of trust in the adult version of us doesn’t mean something is wrong with us… it means that we never learned to trust an adult. we were all we had… and we became a person that could survive almost anything. and we have. several times. you and I have been battling it out for a long time, but i’ve finally realized why.

i don’t need you to save me in that way anymore. and that isn’t rejection.

i’m proud of the way you became so sturdy, built like a fucking tank that handled anything that came at you better than most adults.. but that came at a cost to you and it robbed you of so much, and instead of fighting you- i’m telling you to trust me. i’m telling you what no adult has ever told us. trust me.

you didn’t choose to have life kick you in the ass. you didn’t want to become fluent in survival. you lived in a world that constantly changed and you adapted each time.

and you kept your heart. you didn’t fail. you survived and still loved, hoped, found meaning in small things, found music, found beauty in things and people, you laughed a lot, and you always knew there was more to life than waiting for the next hurricane to hit. and i think you knew that one day, i’d come to tell you this.

this version of me is becoming better than we could have ever imagined, and it’s not better or worse. its safe. grieving dad has made me see that your whole life- we were prepared for loss. you spent your life trying to prevent another goodbye that you didn’t know what life felt like if you weren’t waiting for one.

you thought being prepared would make it hurt less when they left. you self-sabotaged because if someone left for a reason that you caused- it was easier to understand why they didn’t love you. all of that preparation didn’t help. it made us feel it twice.

dad is gone, and you hate that. i know you hate that. i know you want a plan, you don’t like the unknown because it’s scary as shit. you want to find the right explanation so you can make the pain tamer.

it will never be tamer. it will ease on our heart- but grief is the unspoken love we will never get to share with that person. so when grief hits now, i will be thankful that dad taught me to be myself, to use my imagination, to follow my wild ideas, and always put beer on my steaks if i’m grilling them. the immense grief is because of the immense love every version of us have for him.

but now, i need you to put the armor down. lower the spikes. let someone make you feel safe. let me make the choices… and let me be soft without trying to instantly correct it.

let me have a peaceful day without searching for the disaster hidden inside of it. let me love without turning it into a CIA op.

let me trust myself without a council in my own mind.

and if you tug at me to get my attention- i’ll listen. i won’t ignore you. and i’ll thank you for protecting us but that i’ve got it… and i’ve only got it because you taught me how.

your courage comes with me. your humor dies with me. your ability to survive comes with me. instincts, anger, and scars. You’re not being erased, you’re being promoted. you’re no longer a soldier in a war you never signed up for.

now, you get to watch the spectacle we’re about to make out of this shit.

i will live the life you fought so hard to protect. i will laugh louder and i will love in the biggest capacity i can- with boundaries to who has the access.

i will build something beautiful from what we survived.

and when grief should come again- and it will, we will sit through it together.. and we will let it pass. comets, storms, asteroids- we will let it pass.

you don’t have to die for me to become the new version of myself… you can just stop being afraid that i will leave you behind. i have and will never abandon what we’ve built.

you’re the girl that got me here. and i’m giving you the love you deserve so you can finally rest.

-t