There are many things we grieve after loss.
We grieve the person who is no longer here. We grieve the conversations we can no longer have, the celebrations that will never feel quite the same, and the future moments we imagined sharing.
But there is another loss that is rarely discussed.
Sometimes, you grieve yourself.
You miss the person you were before grief entered your life.
You remember when laughter came more easily. You remember waking up without immediately remembering that someone was missing. You remember making plans without calculating how emotionally difficult they might be. You remember feeling lighter, safer, and perhaps even more certain about life.
Then loss happened.
And something inside you changed.
You may look in the mirror and recognize your face, yet feel as though you are looking at a different person.
You have experienced something the former version of you had never experienced.
You now know what it feels like to lose someone you deeply love.
You know what an empty chair can mean.
You understand why certain dates hurt.
You understand why a familiar song can suddenly bring tears.
You understand why someone can be surrounded by people and still feel alone.
Grief has introduced you to dimensions of yourself you may never have known existed.
And sometimes you simply want the old you back.
The person who did not think about death so often.
The person who did not understand how quickly life could change.
The person who did not carry memories with such tenderness.
The person who did not have to learn how to live around an absence.
There is grief in realizing that you cannot completely return to who you were before.
Loss changes us.
That truth can be painful.
But change does not mean destruction.
You may never become exactly who you were before grief, but that does not mean the person you are becoming cannot be beautiful.
You are learning things about yourself that could only be discovered through deep waters.
You are discovering strength you did not know you possessed.
You are becoming more aware of what matters.
You may love more intentionally because you understand that time is precious.
You may forgive more quickly because you understand that tomorrow is not promised.
You may become more compassionate because you now recognize pain hiding behind someone else’s smile.
You may appreciate ordinary moments because you understand that ordinary moments eventually become treasured memories.
This does not mean you should be grateful for the loss.
It means something meaningful can still emerge from what broke you.
The bridge in Beauty in the Breaking represents this difficult transition.
On one side stands the person you were before grief.
On the other side is the person you are becoming because you have walked through it.
You cannot remain forever on the side you came from.
But you do not have to abandon that version of yourself either.
Bring her with you.
Bring her laughter.
Bring her dreams.
Bring her courage.
Bring the things she loved.
Bring the parts of her that still belong in your future.
Then allow yourself to become someone new.
Not someone defined only by loss, but someone deepened by love, strengthened through survival, softened by compassion, and awakened to the preciousness of life.
There may still be days when you miss who you used to be.
Grieve her.
Honor her.
Remember her.
But do not overlook the person standing here today.
She has survived days the former version of herself never imagined she would have to face.
She has crossed waters she never expected to encounter.
She has carried sorrow and continued living.
She is still becoming.
And perhaps healing is not about finding your way back to the person you were.
Perhaps healing is discovering that there can still be beauty in the person you are becoming after the breaking.
Selah Moment with Dr. Althea Winifred.
