Grief is an intense feeling brought on by the death of a loved one or the loss of something we once cared about, something I’m very familiar with. I lost my father and grandmother in less than five months of each other this year, two people who had profound impacts on my life and journey.
Both of their deaths were sudden and fast. After my father’s passing, I began taking care of my 93-year-old grandmother. There wasn’t much time to grieve my father’s passing; I entered a “get stuff done” mentality, focusing intensely on caring for my grandmother.
While grieving my father, I had to deal with estate matters and my family, organize my father’s and grandmother’s funeral, work full time and more.
How do we mourn the loss of people so important to us and still live our day-to-day lives? I cried, got angry, felt numb and then got angry again, all while trying to function normally.
Just as there are different kinds of grief, grief affects people differently.
Recently, we’ve feared losing the rights and freedoms we once had, leaving us uncertain about what will happen to us next.
We now face a dark, bleak time in our country with all the attacks on LGBTQ+ rights, same-sex marriage, trans rights, women’s and BIPOC rights, voting rights and so much more.
On top of all that, Christian nationalists are slowly gaining control through fear-mongering, lies and manipulation. We have no idea what will happen next.
What fights will we have to take on in the days, months and years to come?
Meanwhile, we’re losing our families and the people who we thought supported us. Our friends and family are showing their true colors, watching how we vote and acting accordingly.
Our friends and family must not understand how hard it is to watch them side with hate and discrimination. They must not understand the weight on our shoulders.
They must not understand the grief of losing the connection we once thought we had.
Political grief is a heartbreak that doesn’t just live in the mind; it settles in our emotions and seeps into our bones. Political grief is watching them silence our community, debate our rights and spin our very existence into a political issue.
Surrounded by hate and prejudice, we are mourning more than what we have lost; we are mourning what was promised to us but has not come to pass.
But in the midst of our sorrow, there is the strength to resist. Grief doesn’t mean giving up; it proves that we cared enough to fight in the first place.
There is no “right” way to process grief. Here are a few ways I am learning to process grief on my journey.
1. Acknowledge the loss. Begin by recognizing that something meaningful has changed or been taken away, whether it’s a person, relationship, dream or societal shift. We must allow ourselves to name the loss.
2. Let yourself feel. Grief brings a range of emotions — sadness, anger, guilt, numbness and even relief. These aren’t wrong or bad; it means we are human. We must permit ourselves to feel what we feel, without judgment.
3. Create space for expression. Scream into a pillow, cry, write, sing, make art, talk to a friend or sit in silence. Self-care is essential. Processing sometimes requires releasing in some way.
4. Seek support. No one has to grieve alone. Reach out to friends, therapists, support groups, spiritual community or other leaders.
5. Be patient with your process. Grief doesn’t follow a specific timeline; we might feel better one day and torn apart the next. Healing can be unpredictable.
6. Honor what and who was lost. Rituals can be a powerful tool; light a candle, plant something, create a memorial or speak the name of the person you lost. Talk to or about that person.
Grief is something we must learn to carry, not get over. It shifts and changes, just like us.
Grief is proof that love echoes where words fall short.
Some days grief is a whisper, but other days it’s a thunderclap in our chest. But no matter how it shows up, our grief is valid.
Let us be kind to ourselves. We must hold space for the tears, the memories and the silence.
But we must never forget that even in grief, our voices matter, our stories matter and our hope is a step to make a change.
Most importantly, we must never forget that we are loved, accepted and wanted.
Momma Ashley Rose has been a family-friendly drag performer for over two decades. She is the founder and president of Rose Dynasty Foundation Inc., which opened the Rose Dynasty Center, Polk County’s first LGBTQ+ center.
