Week 2. I Think I’m Ready
The big day has finally arrived.
After months of planning and preparing, I am stepping into the unknown. The process of dematerialising my life has began. Selling, donating, and discarding possessions has been liberating, with only the essentials for the journey ahead, this is my moment to explore, to climb the mountain I’ve been staring at for so long.
As I stand on the edge of this new chapter, I feel an overwhelming sense of focus and motivation. Focus, I’ve realised, is key. It’s what drives me to move forward, even as fear whispers doubts about the unknown. For the past seven years studying, I’ve rarely ventured far from the confines of my desk. Today, that changes. Today, I take a gamble on myself.
This leap feels both exhilarating and terrifying. I find myself caught between two worlds: everything I’ve ever known and everything I’ve ever dreamt of. As a first-generation graduate and now a Master of Laws student in my final year, this journey feels particularly significant. No one I know has walked this path, and that reality can feel isolating. It’s a daunting but necessary step in the journey of self-discovery, navigating the unfamiliar territory between who I was and who I am becoming.
These reflections are especially poignant following the recent passing of a relative. Times like this stir a deep sense of purpose in me.
The Power of Nostalgia and Perspective in Grief
Losing a relative has a way of amplifying the emotions we carry, both the joy of memories shared and the pain of unresolved conflicts. Nostalgia can feel bittersweet; it pulls us back into moments of connection and reminds us of what was, but it also highlights the gaps left behind. Following the death of my relative, I found myself reflecting not only on the person, but also on the nature of families themselves.
Every family has its ups and downs. Disagreements, misunderstandings, and divisions are, sadly, not uncommon. Not all families manage to come together during times of loss, and the absence of certain members at significant events like funerals often sparks judgment. However, in my experience, these absences shouldn’t be hastily interpreted as a lack of respect. The reasons are often deeply personal, rooted in pain, or reflective of complex dynamics.
We live in a world that often feels fractured, whether within families, between communities, or on a global scale. Just as war dominates headlines, conflict can quietly persist in our homes, eroding the foundation of relationships that should be built on love and understanding. This reality is heartbreaking, especially because kindness and love are not complicated concepts. They are, at their core, very simple.
Studies have shown that unresolved family conflict can deeply impact mental health.
In the UK, research by the charity Stand Alone indicates that approximately one in five families experience estrangement, affecting around 12 million family members. This estrangement doesn’t just create physical distance; it perpetuates emotional wounds, leaving grief to fester in the space where reconciliation could have grown.
According to the American Psychological Association (2020), family estrangement affects about 27% of Americans, with common reasons including differing values, abuse, or divorce.
Grief isn’t confined to the loss of life; it also encompasses the pain of broken relationships. Whether due to death or a falling-out, the emotional weight can feel almost unbearable at times. Yet, the opportunity to heal remains. Reaching out with love and humility can be the first step toward bridging gaps that once felt insurmountable.
This week, I want to take a moment to honour anyone who is navigating the pain of loss, whether it’s the loss of a loved one or the grieving of a fractured relationship. I see the impact of these experiences everywhere I go: families torn apart, friendships that fade, and people struggling to find their place in the chaos. The best gift we can give to ourselves and to others is to extend kindness and make the effort to move on from the past.
Love begins with action. It starts in our homes, within our families, and with our friends and neighbours. We can’t expect peace in the world if we don’t first foster peace in our personal lives. It’s not difficult to be kind; in fact, it’s one of the simplest yet most impactful things we can do and it is through these small acts of kindness that we plant seeds of healing, even in the most fractured hearts.
As I consider this next phase of life, Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 echoes in my mind:
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance."
This verse feels like a signpost, reminding me that life’s seasons, even the painful ones are inevitable and necessary. While mourning and reflection have their place, this is my season to dance. To step boldly into the unknown with the courage to embrace the possibilities ahead.
It’s time to move forward.
References
American Psychological Association. (2020). Estrangement between parents and adult children. Retrieved from https://www.apa.org
Hertz, R., & David, R. (2022). The End of Family: How Estrangement Has Become a Growing Epidemic. Sociology Research Online, 27(4), 789–803.
Stroebe, M., Schut, H., & Boerner, K. (2017). Coping with Bereavement: A Theoretical Overview. Bereavement Care, 36(2), 58–64
Stand Alone (2014) Hidden voices: Family estrangement in adulthood. Available at: https://www.standalone.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/StandAlonePrevalenceRESEARCH3.pdf
