Everything Was Good, Then My Mom Died

For a while, life felt steady. Rooted. I was ambitious, excited, and full of vision. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine—and it felt good.

I can look back now and see the signs. The universe, my ancestors, the quiet knowing deep inside… they were all trying to prepare me. But when you love someone the way I loved my mother, you believe you can outwit the inevitable. You believe your love, your will, your prayers can change the outcome.

Guess what? You can’t.

Her decline was slow but unstoppable. And as she slipped away, so did I. My own untethering began before she took her last breath.

When she died, I didn’t just lose my mother. I lost my motivation. I lost my ambition. I lost the version of myself I had known for so long.

Grief hollowed me out. I didn’t recognize my own reflection—not in the mirror, not in my work, not in my dreams. I felt sick of the feeling, but it clung to me like a second skin.

The Slow Work of Re-Rooting

Somewhere in the middle of that loss, I realized something important; grief doesn’t return you to who you were before. It doesn’t hand you your old self back. Instead, it asks—sometimes demands—that you discover a new way to root yourself in life.

Re-rooting for me hasn’t been a single moment or a big breakthrough. It’s been quiet, stubborn work. It’s been looking for new meaning in places I didn’t expect to find it.

It’s trying new hobbies—not because I’m suddenly “better,” but because I need reasons to feel alive again. It’s adding new self-care practices, like working out, not just for my body but to remind myself I can still choose growth. It’s learning how to live without my personal cheerleader, my fierce advocate, my emergency fund, and my safe place to land.

It’s been accepting that there is no one to hype me up in the exact way she did—and realizing that means I have to become my own hype woman.

For the Ones Still in It

I won’t tell you “it gets better,” because those words never felt honest to me. What I will tell you is: you get through. You will get to a point where you begin to rediscover yourself, even if the pieces look different than before.

Life doesn’t stop for grief, which can feel cruel. But at some point, you’ll be faced with a choice; do I stay here in this place of loss, or do I slowly begin to reintegrate with life?

Neither choice is easy. Both require courage. But when you’re ready—really ready—you’ll begin to notice the small signs of your own re-rooting: the laugh that catches you off guard, the plan you’re excited to make, the dream you didn’t realize you still had.

And that’s when you’ll know—grief didn’t end you. It changed you. You may never get your old self back, but you can grow someone just as whole, just as worthy, and just as alive.