There is a kind of love that doesn’t arrive in the easy seasons of life and through the usual channels. This love is not born in comfort or a romantic setting. It does not come with the giggling, lightness and anticipation that often mark the bloom of something new. This love is just as powerful, but born only in the wake of trauma, loss, disappointment or change that is so profound it literally rearranges the way we see the world.
None of us moves forward without looking back. Often, it is in the act of purposeful reflection that we gain the biggest insights, which prepare us for taking a healthier step into the future. Whether consciously or unconsciously, we carry our experiences and our heartbreaks, and always our people with us. We cannot ‘un-know’ them just because they are no longer here, and we cannot ‘un-feel’ what we felt in that moment. The weight of carrying can feel unbearable at first, but I have come to realise that in time it can evolve into something else if we let it. It can soften and transform, and with purpose, gradually our ‘stuff’ can feel lighter. In the case of losing a loved one, it can become a conscious choice that we embrace, an act of devotion and a way of keeping their memory alive rather than a painful burden. A way of saying: You shaped me and continue to shape me, and I will never stop loving you.
Some of the most beautiful young people I have worked with or crossed paths with have come from a background with trauma that is unimaginable to most adults. They appear tough and angry on the outside and usually because they have had to fight to survive and know no different. They push people away through aggressive behaviour and confronting outbursts, but more often than not, if we stick around long enough to get a glimpse behind the protective armour they hold so close, we see something beautiful. A deep essence and intensity – and a unique love waiting to be shared that cannot come from any other source than the result of something that feels broken.
Our emotions and behaviours are the clues to exploring what lies beneath, and we all have an inner child.
Perhaps it is just me falling in love with people’s potential again, but I can’t help feeling inspired by someone who chooses to take their experience and let it be the driver for something more powerful or a vehicle for bringing something uniquely special to the world. The individual who takes time out, then carefully picks themselves up off the floor, gathers up the broken pieces, and instead of becoming (understandably) void or adverse to future emotions, they love (or feel) harder than ever. And with time and patience, they turn their pain into something meaningful.
Love in this way comes at a cost. It stretches us. It hurts. It breaks us open. We can look around and feel incredible shame, failure and isolation. We can wonder why we aren’t worth being seen and how we could have been let down by what feels like humanity as a whole. And yet, love is a price worth paying because what grows out of those hard places, between the cracks of what appears to be broken, has depth and refuses to look away – a love that is powerful and built on an inexplicable sense of knowing and a journey of resilience.
Grief in all its forms is part of this. It’s not just about losing a person. It’s about the grief of a life you thought you would have and a path changed. Perhaps the hardest part of all is coming face to face and understanding the new version of yourself, unable to find the previous one you were forced to leave behind. These are some of the moments that teach us compassion – for ourselves and for others.
And so, we learn by sharing – stories of our loved ones, stories of survival and stories of our experiences that we thought might break us but they didn’t. In the telling, we often discover that we are not alone as we once felt. Our strengths are highlighted, and we see the same in others. We realise that it’s okay to feel lost, sad and everything in between. Our emotions are not weaknesses, they are a doorway. They are places from which a different kind of love is born, one that is fierce and gentle, that knows what matters because it has had to discern what doesn’t.
I will leave you with these final thoughts.
Time is something we can make the most of but have little control over.
Things happen in the way and at the time they are supposed to, not necessarily our own schedule.
You can build something beautiful with all the pieces you are left holding.
The love that grows out of pain or trauma may be tender, but it is unshakeable.
And it is yours.
And it is enough.
Much Love
Dalya & Ben xx 💙