Last week, my wife and I watched Goodbye June, and the tears flowed. We’ve both lost our mothers recently, but we grieved in very different ways.
I wrote about how I dealt with it last month, during Christmas, which also happens to be my mum’s birthday month.
It’s not advice. Just an observation that might resonate if you’ve been through loss yourself.
Getting into shape, or becoming “obsessed” with health, isn’t something we usually associate with vulnerability or grief.
When people picture grief, they tend to recognise the familiar responses: not being able to get out of bed, turning to alcohol, shutting down.
But expressing pain through movement or creativity?
That’s rarely the first thing that comes to mind. And yet grief affects the mind and body in much the same way as chronic stress. Fight-or-flight gets activated, but with nowhere to go. The energy has no outlet, so it just sits there.
Exercise gives it an exit. Movement gives pain somewhere to go, instead of letting it corrode you quietly from the inside.
A lot of trauma theory suggests emotional pain is stored in the body. And because many of us are disconnected from our physical selves, we rarely discharge it.
Physical activity lets some of that pressure escape.
Especially when grief comes with anger. For me, it often shows up as loops of anger and guilt. Angry that I couldn’t protect or save my mum. Then guilty. Angry that she’s not here to see her granddaughter grow. Then guilty for thinking that. And round it goes.
Exercise is the one thing that reliably pulls me out of that spiral.
It gives those emotions a socially acceptable place to go. It’s simply an easier form of expression for me. Talking one-to-one can feel like picking at a scab. And I know I’m not alone in that.
For people whose nervous systems find talking overwhelming, physical or creative expression can be a more accessible way to process emotion.
But I’m also aware that timing matters.
If I’d lost my mum at another point in my life, maybe my coping mechanisms would have looked very different. Maybe it would have been alcohol, maybe days in bed, maybe shutting down completely.
Perhaps becoming a father later in life nudged me toward movement and creativity as a valid way to cope.
Normally my workouts are structured. Recently, they haven’t been. I’ve been letting my body move in whatever way feels called for.
Writing this gave my grief some direction. If it resonated with someone else, then it gave the pain a little purpose too.
Thank you for reading. You’ve indulged me.