“Sadness never ends…but it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Sadness is not a sign of weakness, nor is it a lack of confidence. It’s the price of love.” ~ Unknown
“Thank you for letting me know.” The moment I hung up the phone, tears came. I was confused and caught off guard. Why do I cry for the death of my ex-husband?
We separated six years ago. I have a new partner who hasn’t thought much about his ideas for three years. Then why did his death make me so powerful?
Don’t cry big girl
The emotions of growing up in Ireland are not what we talk about. Tears are for children, not for adults. When I’m upset, I hear the same phrase, “Don’t cry big girl.” It’s not about hurting me, but it’s with me.
I learned to swallow my feelings. Anger, sadness, fear- those are things you privately. I think power means taking it all. But as we get older, this power feels heavy.
When my ex-husband passed away, all of this rushed back. Sadness, chaos, inner gui. Then it’s shameful. Why can’t I be stronger? Why can’t I be united as I should?
Sorrow and inner gui collided
I feel like I have failed. Crying not only feels wrong, but also feels like betrayal. Betrayed my growth experience, my image, and even my current relationship. I can’t stop thinking: What if my partner sees me like this? Will he understand? Would he think I still love my ex?
For me, the same is true for fear. I wanted to go to the funeral, but I was scared. What would his family think? Will they see my tears and think I shouldn’t be sad about it? Would they think I was pretending?
I want to hide. I want to get rid of emotions that I shouldn’t have. But this time, I told me to stay.
Reach out a helping hand
I can’t carry it anymore. Sadness, inner gui, fear – there is too much everything. This is the first time in my life, I did something I always avoid. I reached out.
I called my mom.
At first, I hesitated. My instinct is to keep them together and pretend I’m fine. But the moment she picked it up, these words spilled out. I told her everything. How lost I am. I feel ashamed of crying. If people see me like this, I’m so scared of what I’d think of.
She didn’t say much at the beginning. She just listened.
The power of a simple truth
Then, when I finally stopped talking, she said simple things. “You know, you can feel it. You love him at once. It’s not just disappearing.”
Her words opened something on me. I cried more than I had in years, but for the first time, I wasn’t alone. She stayed on the phone when I was all out. She didn’t try to fix it or tell me to stop. She just stayed.
That moment was a turning point. I began to see that grief was not something to fight or hide. This is something I have to make myself feel. Seeking support didn’t weaken me. If anything, it gives me strength.
Relying on my mother to help me find a foothold. I haven’t surpassed the loss, and I haven’t even lost close range yet, but I feel not trapped by it. The first time I can breathe again.
Face my fear at the funeral
I arrived at the church with my friend and my stomach was in trouble. The air feels heavy, like I know I don’t belong here, or at least, that’s what my mind has always told me.
A car pulled in next to us and my heart sank. It’s his sister. Without thinking, I fell in my seat and silently begged the ground to swallow me. What am I doing here? I’m not sure I can face their sorrow. I’m not sure I can face myself.
But I will go so far that I can’t back down now.
Looking for unexpected comfort
Dragging my feet, I walked towards the church door. Each step is heavier than the last step. I caught a glimpse of his brother standing near the entrance, panic popping up in my chest. I almost turned around and ran away.
My friend felt my hesitation and gently squeezed my elbow. It was a small gesture, but stabilized me. I kept walking.
Then I saw her – his sister – at the entrance of the church. Her eyes locked with me. There is no way out now. I cheered up, expecting a cold gaze, a sharp word, and even a total anger.
Instead, she moved forward. Then, before I reacted, she wrapped her arms around me. Embrace warm and full of love. It ruined every wall I built in my mind.
Find solace in shared memories
Inside, the service is simple and poignant. The pastor spoke softly, and the memories of our lives came to my mind – some are good, some are real. When the coffin was taken out of the church, I felt tears emanate again.
My friend put an arm around my waist and gave me a little squeeze. For a moment, I considered evacuating, trying to summon that old stiff upper lip. Pretend I’m fine. But I didn’t. I let tears fall.
After the service, the family invited me to have a drink. After all, this is a funeral in Ireland. I was hesitant, not sure if I belonged to their circle of mourning, but their warmth melted my fear. Some make us laugh when we share stories about him, while others shed tears for our eyes – I realized something profound. We all love this person the way we do, and in that moment our shared sorrow unites us.
With sadness, embrace happiness
I felt strange when I left the funeral. The heavy loss still exists, but there are other things – a sense of ease, even relief.
The kindness of this family reminded me of things I had forgotten in my inner gui and fear. I don’t just feel sad for one person. I feel sad for my life. I shared it with my ex for 18 years. Those years are very important. They turned me into who I am today.
A beautiful understanding of love
At first, I worked hard to align these feelings with my love for my current partner. I worry that my grief might hurt him or make him feel less important. But as time goes by, I realize something beautiful: love is not competition. I have room for love from the past and present in my heart.
I still feel sad when I think of my ex. Sometimes, it sneaks in and out-and-a song he once loved, random memories, and even a quiet moment. But I learned that grief doesn’t mean I’m trapped or broken. It’s just part of the healing, reminding us of the love we share and the lessons we learn together.
Lessons learned through grief
- There are no rules for sadness: Mourn someone even if your relationship isn’t perfect or ended a long time ago. Sadness is personal and unpredictable.
- Emotion is strength, not weakness: Feeling your emotions doesn’t make you weak – it makes you human. Suppressing them will only make the weight heavier.
- Seek support: You don’t have to carry sadness alone. Rely on those who care about you and let them help relieve you.
- Sadness and growth can coexist: Mourning someone is also an opportunity to reflect on the relationship that teaches you how it affects you.
- Recovery takes time: There is no timetable for recovery. Be patient and gentle during the journey.
Sorrow is not something we “overcome”. It’s something we carry around, but over time it gets lighter. We make room for this, and for this, we make room for love, connection and joy again.
If you have experienced sorrow, know that you are not alone. Share your story in the comments below, or connect with someone who can support you. Sometimes, simply hearing can be the first step in recovery.
About Samantha Carolan
Sam Carolan is a personal development blogger, and EFT coaches are passionate about helping women embrace the beauty and challenges of middle age. Through her work in Love Middle Age, she provides insights, tools and inspiration to drive the transitions of life with elegance and resilience. Sam loves reading, riding and yoga when she doesn’t write or coach.
