Aundrea Sayrie: Introducing Good Grief. Creating space for awareness, honesty, and repurposing pain

Watershed Voice columnist Aundrea Sayrie is introducing a new series exploring how loss lives in everyday lives, and its impact on mental health. This month she will examine the “mother wound,” and how a month she once looked forward to feels different, forcing her to “confront the distance” between who she is and who she wants to be.

Good Grief. is a dedicated space to explore how loss lives in our everyday lives and its impact on mental health. Written through the lens of lived experience, it examines the quiet ways grief shows up. In our bodies, our relationships, and the patterns we carry. Creating space for awareness, honesty, and repurposing pain.

Kicking off the series will be articles on the mother wound. And here is the first one:

Hello May.

A month I used to welcome like an old friend.

The entire month once felt like a Hallmark holiday.

A time of celebration.

Mother’s Day. Mom’s birthday.

Now… its approach feels different.

Ominous. Vulnerable. Weighted.

There’s nowhere to hide from the feelings I’m still working through 

Feelings that have only compounded over time.

Now eclipsed by grief.

Ache. Longing.

A loneliness I can’t fully explain.

May has a way of forcing me to confront the distance

between who I am

and who I want to be.

To face the devastating truth

that I have worked so hard to build beautiful things,

and still found myself burnt out,

with little to show for it.

I just want to live.

So now…

I am someone learning how to decenter survival.

Because for a long time, survival was all I knew.

People-pleasing.

Hyper-independence.

A tolerance for mistreatment that ran far too high.

Hyper-aware.

Anxious.

Always bracing.

Not personality

pattern.

Because survival comes with politics.

Not the kind you debate,

the kind you live by.

The kind that teaches you how to move carefully.

How to read a room before you speak.

How to shrink and not be a burden.

You know the ones.

Respectability politics.

Gender politics.

Family politics.

Religious politics.

A performance.

Rules unspoken, adhered to, and understood.

The kind that rewards you for being agreeable.

For being strong.

For not asking for too much.

And somewhere along the way,

those rules stop feeling like survival

and start feeling like who you are.

I carried them all

like badges of honor.

Back-breaking.

Knee-buckling.

Heart-aching.

Forward.

Onward.

Silent.

I nearly died.

No exaggeration.

It was mothering, 

And motherhood, that kept me here.

And as I start pulling at the threads,

 I’m realizing…

this motherhood journey isn’t uniquely mine.

It didn’t start with me.

And I can’t help but wonder just how far back it really goes…


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