13 thoughts on “A Story Of Trying To Feel Your Feelings

  • May 4, 2011 at 10:50 am

    This is an exquisite post! My father’s death is still relatively fresh…just a little over four months ago. Being able to feel my grief whenever and where ever is a gift I have given myself…and I have also given myself the opportunity to just observe the ebb and flow of my grief. As well is the comforting realization that my feelings can’t destroy me unless I choose to let them.

    Why is it that we think if we start to cry we won’t be able to stop?? I mean, we don’t think the same thing about laughing, so why should crying be any different?

    So much to think about…and write about ๐Ÿ™‚

    • May 4, 2011 at 1:05 pm

      @ Karen, thank you! It’s always tough putting your heart to paper. ๐Ÿ™‚ I love what you said about crying being as fleeting as laughter, so why fear it? I think it’s also the anxiety of something new; as in, if you’re not used to feeling such feelings, you might be anxious about what that feels like, and what will happen if I just explode with emotion? What you said about grief not destroying you unless you let it is so empowering. Thank you for that!

  • May 4, 2011 at 11:41 am

    Thank you for this. My mom passed almost 3 years ago and with Mother’s Day coming up my feelings are bubbling to the surface. I’m still greaving and that’s ok.

    • May 4, 2011 at 1:06 pm

      @ Linda, I’m glad this post resonated with you. I’m so sorry to hear about your mom. Losing a parent is so difficult. My thoughts are with you!

  • May 4, 2011 at 2:25 pm

    Margarita, this post was absolutely gripping. Thank you for writing this, for sharing this, for giving us a peek into something so deep. I am so, so touched.

    • May 4, 2011 at 3:18 pm

      @ Katie, as always, thank you so much for your support and sweet words! They mean a lot to me.

  • May 4, 2011 at 4:42 pm

    Margarita, this is beautiful. I’m especially touched by this line: Lungs like moth wings, bones so brittle and a shaky foundation, bending to the weakest of winds.

    I’m not sure if we ever get accustomed to grief, and I think you’re right that, in some ways, we don’t want to get used to it, because we fear what that might mean. Thanks for bravely sharing your story as a way to illustrate the importance of feeling our feelings.

    • May 4, 2011 at 4:58 pm

      @ Dana, thank you for your kind words! With that line, I was actually just paraphrasing Maya’s poem, because the line so resonated with me. (Someday, I hope to write like that!) It’s an interesting balance almost between trying to feel one’s feelings and yet moving on and letting go. I think it differs for each person, and it’s really important to consider whether grief (or whatever feelings, bottled up or not) is leading to unhealthy things.

  • March 4, 2012 at 4:20 pm

    Hi Margarita,

    I just found your blog last week, and it is so awesome and inspiring!

    I too struggle with my dad’s passing. He passed away a little over a year ago. Sometimes it feels like it just happened yesterday, but at other times, like it was so long ago.

    My dad’s illness taught me a lot, including to love and appreciate my body. After seeing my dad unable swallow or breath on his own, it truly made me appreciate my body and how it functioned. Through his months of illness, never once did my body fail me, no matter how hard I pushed it (and I pushed it incredibly hard).

    I also came to realize how small my criticisms about my body were. How could I criticize my thighs when my dad had to relearn to walk? How could I curse myself for enjoying the taste of food when my dad would have given just about anything to be able to eat again?

    Honestly, I’m not sure that I’d be as appreciative of my body as I am now, if it hadn’t been for that. Without knowing it, my dad gave me such an incredible gift – love for myself, including my body. It hasn’t always been easy, but little by little, day by day, I continue to work on loving myself and living my life to the fullest. I know that doing this is also the best way that to honour my dad.

    • March 5, 2012 at 1:54 pm

      @ Palidor, thank you so much! I’m so sorry to hear about your dad’s passing. And I really appreciate you leaving a comment here (along with your kind words!).

      I’m honestly just blown away by your words. As I was reading, I just kept nodding my head the entire time. You make such an important point about appreciating our bodies. It’s so easy to get caught up in wanting to shave off some fat here and a little cellulite there and so on. But then when you stop and think about the gifts our bodies give us, it can be a powerful shift in perspective. Thank you for that super important reminder!


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