“Shall I pack some blackberries for you in this old ice-cream tub”?
My friend’s mother looked at me for an answer. Earlier this afternoon, she had helped me pick blackberries in the woodland paths surrounding her house. This lady was all kind heart and generous cups of tea, in that very English way. I had stayed with her in her cute little timber-framed home, in a tiny English village by the sea.
I felt warmed by her. I felt cared for. And I also felt enveloped by grief.
I had to shut down the grief because I didn’t want to start crying in the kitchen of this centuries’ old house with its crackling wooden beams and dark wood burning stove.
I’VE GOTTEN TO KNOW GRIEF…
Grief.
It’s been my constant companion for many decades.
My mother had been murdered brutally in 2023. And my friend’s mum with her kindness, had reminded me of my mother. Or rather, the keen sense of loss that I carry around my mother, something that’s been part of my body and my mind for many decades.
As my friend’s mum carefully packed the blackberries, putting an elastic band around the box, so that it wouldn’t split open on my train journey back to London – the grief started to rise like a storm.
Over the years, I’d gotten into the habit of keeping my grief to myself. It felt too raw, too primal to show to the world.
Imagine if I had collapsed on that ancient floor and howled my pain. No, that wouldn’t do.
So I smiled and thanked my kind hostess for the blackberries.
I tightened the lid on the box and tightened the lid on my grief. It would have to wait until I was back home in my London apartment.
I LEARNT TO “ALLOW” GRIEF
Once I let myself into my own flat, locked the door and collapsed onto my bed, that’s when the grief flowed and the tumbling thoughts rushed in:
My mother’s dead so no one will ever ask me if I’m warm enough.
No one will wait up for me, worrying, when I get home late.
No one will sit by my bedside when I’m sick.
Grief is hard. Grief is relentless. Grief is something I’ve had to learn to allow. Because growing up, I had learnt that crying was a sign of weakness or a loss of control.
I’m not alone. Most people will do anything to not feel the fierce embrace of grief.
The modern world with its endless distractions makes it easy to ignore grief, or any uncomfortable emotion for that matter.
Read the following in an “advertising” voice:
Feeling anxiety rise in your belly? How about some deep-fried food to take away the discomfort? Thinking painful thoughts about your recent break-up? Why not go shopping online? Are you feeling sad about a childhood memory that just surfaced? Just go for a run or hit the machines at the gym and watch it disappear!
Like most people, for most of my life, I’ve kept my grief locked up tight. My belief (totally wrong!) was that this humungous grief would destroy me – if I let it out. I worried that if I allowed myself to feel really sad, then trauma would just take over – and my life would be over.
I’ve learnt that I was wrong.
The day that I decided to befriend my grief, everything changed. I used all sorts of healing methods, everything from therapy to acupuncture to Tantra.
I’ve learnt that it’s only when I allow the grief through can my healing begin.
I’ve learnt that the awful howling and the keening – that’s actually good for you.
I’ve understood that the crying, the swollen eyes, the snotty nose, the chest that feels like it will explode – while they feel TERRIBLE – are actually integral to healing.
Isn’t it funny that crying is often seen as a sign of sadness and weakness, when it is anything but weak?
RESEARCHING GRIEF: MORE FUN THAN IT SOUNDS
I did a bit of “scientific” research around whether grief was good for you, ‘cause you know people trust science more than emotions. I discovered that crying and grieving are actually natural processes with huge physical and psychological benefits:
- Crying relieves stress & helps with self-soothing
When you’re under stress, your body produces stress hormones like cortisol. The physical act of crying helps us get away from the harmful effects of cortisol. And what’s more, it activates our parasympathetic nervous system (PNS), which is responsible for promoting rest and relaxation, pulling you out of the stressful “fight or flight” state. So crying is a kind of emotional “reset button” and is wonderful for self-soothing.
- Crying helps with physical pain
When we have a good cry, our body releases endorphins and oxytocin. These are often referred to as “feel-good” chemicals that can help to ease both physical and emotional pain. Endorphins are a natural painkiller, and oxytocin can produce a sense of well-being and calmness, which helps improve our mood after an emotional release.
- Crying helps with emotional processing
This is important. While the world teaches us to numb our difficult feelings with yet another drink and yet another boxset – all you’re doing is suppressing emotions. And that has huge long-term negative health effects.
I learnt this the hard way. After years of suppressing the “hard” emotions like grief, I ended up with a mental health collapse. The kind where you can’t get out of bed, can’t speak on the phone, can’t do anything really.
I also learnt that if you actually pause and make space in your life for grief, you can actually work through the toughest emotions. And that crying allows you to express and process those emotions rather than bottling them up.
After a big bout of crying, I usually feel much lighter, calmer and have so much clarity over every area of my life.
- Crying is good for your eyes
Tears help us ensure that the cornea stays moist and clear, which is necessary for focusing light properly. They keep your eyes lubricated and prevent the mucous membranes from drying out. When these membranes are not properly hydrated, your vision can become blurry. Tears contain lysozyme, a potent antimicrobial enzyme which helps to fight off bacteria and keeps your eyes clean and healthy. This is crucial for preventing a wide range of eye infections
- Crying helps us sleep better
After an intense crying session, I always feel physically and emotionally drained. Which always makes me sleep better. I understand that this is due to the calming effect of activating the parasympathetic nervous system, and the release of endorphins, both of which make it easier to fall asleep and have a peaceful & uninterrupted sleep.
I’VE GONE FROM “FEMINISTS DON’T CRY” TO “FEMINISTS MUST HAVE A GOOD CRY”
A few hundred years ago, they used leeches to let out poison and toxins from the body. And now, I use tears to let out the poison of trauma and CPTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) from my body. Giving myself permission and space to grieve has becoming like a sort of emotional blood-letting.
Some women light candles. Others put on a face pack as they sit on the sofa.
I give myself time and space for grief.
Allowing myself to cry and not feeling bad about it – just that shift in my thinking has been deeply transformative. After a big crying session, I can feel how much more grounded my body is, how much clearer my thoughts are.
So the next time you feel overwhelmed or deeply stressed – make some time to cry.
It’s not a “sad” thing to and could make you a whole lot happier.
A BIT ABOUT MY BOOK: BAD DAUGHTER
I’ve written a book called Bad Daughter. It’s my story about going from the slums of Bombay to the billboards of New York – via mental health breakdown and exploring my spiritual roots in Kerala. I also talk about how I learnt to use the power of grief and the power of feminine energy to transform my life.
If you’d like to pre-order, here’s the link:
https://baddaughter.co.uk/product/baddaughter-pre-order/