It Be Like That Sometimes: Grief and Emotional Hunger

It’s 2:31am at the Boston Logan International Airport.

My headache pounds as I reach for the family sized lifesaver bag. The instant artificial sugar high follows. The mere smell comforts me. I didn’t have to eat 12 of those nostalgic sugar rings but I kind of did.

They make me think of mom. Lifesavers were her go-to pick-up at the gas station. She’d squeak open a new bag and offer us the first tastes as soon as we were in the car. Even in the smallest details, she always prioritized us. Well, especially the small things, since I’m discovering that it’s the little things that matter.

Her Powerpuff Girls — Resilient and logically decisive Blossom (my older sister), moody hot-tempered Buttercup (me, of course), and sweet and sensitive Bubbles (youngest sister).

Three girls ready to take on the world thanks to their creator and hilarious archenemy Mojo Jojo. Isn’t it true that having a common adversary helps foster stronger bonds?

For us, our common enemies consisted of elementary school bullies, early school buses, barely edible daycare food, and mom’s fabulous high heels that she would wobble out at the end of a long day.

By conquering the world as a united front — our hearts were whole. We had internal unity, familial unity, and a badass matriarchal front as we grew up with two fierce aunts and mom’s headstrong female friends (Yes, Kalisha was a legend).

Now it’s 2:48am and cold Boston air cuts through me as I frantically figure out my last connecting flight.

After visiting three different airline customer service centers (as they all pointed me to other airlines associated with the overall travel plans), I give up and throw myself onto this hideous brown and yellow chair. Within a matter of seconds, I proceed to ball my eyes out.

There’s nothing worse than wanting to go home but being unable to because you feel like you don’t have one.

You may have shelter, water, and light, and I agree we must be grateful for those things. But when your mom, sister, wife, and/or beloved friend passes… home may not feel like home anymore.

Home is where the heart is and your heart aches, growls, and twists inside after they’re gone.

My advice?

Feel the pain so that you can make room to carry space for grace.

Ugly cry, call someone you trust, stuff your face with lifesavers. Do what you have to do…

It is necessary to feel your greatest grief in order to cultivate internal oneness and calm.

The word ‘anguish’ has a negative connotation, and our society has taught us to shun unpleasant emotions and feelings. Put on some Netflix and grab a bag of Doritos, and you’ll be able to forget about your problems in the escapist ibis.

Well, not quite..

International research studies reveal that the more that large N bangs, the more social interaction anxiety and risk for depression escalates. Oh, I know, that doesn’t sound as sexy as “Too Hot Too Handle” or “How to Get Away with Murder.”

But hear me out… I’m not proposing a radical removal of tv entertainment but maybe host a watch party? Or maybe treat the occasion like a piece of candy after you complete more fulfilling, healthy activities.

And as a good friend once said, “I’m not saying I’m not a hypocrite.”

You’re reading from the girl that carried a family sized bag of lifesavers TO and FROM Spain.

It Be Like That Sometimes.

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Zara holds a BA in Political Science/International Affairs. She’s passionate about destigmatizing mental health and empowering women, Latinos, & POC to lead.

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Zara Macias

Zara Macias

Zara holds a BA in Political Science/International Affairs. She’s passionate about destigmatizing mental health and empowering women, Latinos, & POC to lead.

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