An excerpt from Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín: “She thought that he was going to cry; she felt almost guilty that she had handed some of her grief to him, and then she felt close to him for his willingness to take it and hold it, in all its rawness, all its dark confusion.”
It can feel this way. Like guilt when you hand some of your grief to others. Like you burdened them or made them uncomfortable or brought a heaviness to their otherwise bright and cheerful day.
But when you hand some of your grief to those who are willing to take it and help you hold it—in all of its rawness and dark confusion—you’re not burdening them… you’re actually giving them an opportunity. An opportunity to connect deeply with you in a way that would be a burden to try to figure out how to otherwise. Get it?
Because when we’re bright and cheerful, like the sun, we typically connect over what touches the surface: our likes and dislikes; our hobbies and activities; our background and accomplishments…
But when we’re grief-stricken, like the rain, we connect over what seeps below the surface: our emotions and feelings; our morals and values; our life-defining experiences and most significant pains…
Trauma-dumping is a term you might use when somebody pours unsolicited trauma experiences towards a person who is unwilling to take and hold it… who feels uncomfortable… who becomes burdened.
But grief-sharing is not that.
It, in fact, can be one of the most significant relationship deepening experiences that two people ever share.