It's okay not to cry: A few words about grief shaming

 was told yesterday that I was handling a tough situation well. Sounds nice enough, right? The situation was finding out my mother-in-law has decided to pass on any treatments for her cancer, which was just diagnosed this week. The person, whom I shall call Carrie, was well-meaning (I think), but delivered this statement when I was in the middle of emailing doctors, advocating for mom, and generally “getting shit done”. I was also sitting in a room with my mom and my husband (her son) so that wasn’t the time to be letting my tears flow.

Let me explain further. Well-meaning Carrie pointed out that she’d been doing her fair share of crying, as had mom. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be breaking out the ‘who cried last’ comparison chart, making a case for whichever of us cries the hardest loves her most, or what Carrie wanted me to do. I just knew that mom’s doctors were being A-holes and I was having none of it. They gave her a diagnosis via text message with no follow-up appointment planned and as The Weeknd would say I was saving my tears for another day.

Which got me to thinking about crying and grief. I’m all about expressing emotions and folks having a safe place to do so. Mental health is extremely important to me, and I believe that if you bottle up emotions and don’t let that stuff out, it will come out negatively in, sometimes, hurtful ways.

Being able to feel all your feelings is a right that should be protected. Not wanting to feel your feelings is a choice that should be respected.

Criticizing someone, even passive aggressively, because they are not grieving on your timeline is not okay. Carrie might be better served offering to help me with the doctors, thanking me, or showing compassion, knowing that I’m bottling everything up at that moment. Instead, I was left to explain to her the art of compartmentalization. Which took valuable energy and time. And she looked dumbfounded at the end, showing that she still didn’t get the concept. That’s okay, Carrie. I’ve got this for both of us.

Even though I might need to swallow some of my own offer-some-compassion medicine after posting this, it’s important to note that my tone is a form of releasing grief for me. I’ll save my tears for another day, and there are sure to be plenty of them. My mother-in-law is an amazing woman. I’ve loved her from the minute I met her. I’m so damn lucky. I feel like I won the mother-in-law lottery. She stepped in as my mom when I lost my biological mom to cancer 12 years ago. She is the best of all of us. Which is why I’ll honor her wishes, stand by her side with bravery, cry only when she’s not looking, and make her laugh her ass off and enjoy life every last one of her days.

My sarcasm and humor were genetically poured into me like a fine wine by a father who also left this Earth far too soon (RIP dad). It took me years to grieve him, and I held it inside like a secret I had to keep. It made me sick, depressed, haunted. My main lesson learned after all the grief? Let your loved ones go when they want to. Check your damn ego. It’s not about you, it’s about them. Make their every last-minute count. Tell them you love them with actions and words. Cry with them, without them – whatever makes you comfortable. Or don’t. It’s your grief. As long as you acknowledge it, screw the Carries.