Prolougue
The aftermath of losing my mom sneakily finds a way to trickle every single aspect of life. From chronic people-pleasing habits, to being hyper-independent, to my eating habits, to having commitment issues in past relationships (we’ll come back to that), it seems like my reasoning and justification for everything is the byproduct from this one traumatic event that happened when I was 10 years old.
But I’m 30 now. My mom died 20 years ago. Shouldn’t I be used to life by now? I’m a grown-up; why haven’t I have I figured it out by now?
It seems to be the exact opposite. The older I get, the more I don’t have it figured out and the more I question everything. I can’t seem to calm down. One of my greatest questions has always been – “Why is it that after my mom died, there was no community for girls like me?” I had never met another young girl whose mom had passed away, or experienced any parent-loss for that matter. In the suburban town of North Attleboro, Massachusetts where I grew up, like much of suburban America, success sat on popularity, prettiness and football touchdowns. Conversations about mother loss? What on earth does that even mean? Let’s avoid that all costs and hope it never comes up. Ann Marie looks like she’s doing pretty good anyway. Field hockey player and National Honor Society student. She fits in – she’s good.
The definition of what we were taught was “success” feels a lot different than what I would define it as now. And it’s not North Attleboro’s fault. They weren’t all that bad. They did the best they could. However, the level of insecurity for a little motherless Portuguese/Italian girl was real. I now view success as the ability to speak your truth, being comfortable with being vulnerable, being of service to others, and most important, always – having no ego. When you practice those things, the rest just sort of comes.
Life for me looks different now. It’s far from boring (too far sometimes). I am 30 years old living bi-coastally between Los Angeles and Boston and I help run a nonprofit to serve girls who experience mother-loss called empowerHER®. To be honest, I feel like a 60 year old living in this 30 year old body because that’s what happens when you’re forced to grow up at the age of 10.
I’m excited to share my stories about grief, vulnerability and so much more.
If you continue reading and find yourself judging certain situations, turn your eyes inward and ask really why you are judging. Observing and feeling without judgment of one another is one of the highest forms of intelligence 💙