you cannot avoid grief without avoiding love.

even if you do everything right... so what now?

Something subtle is happening in our communities right now — a slow decaying of our ability to withstand grief. A growing desire to avoid pain and discomfort altogether. It feels like we are all searching for a utopia that doesn’t exist in the name of never feeling those feelings we wish we could avoid. The rise of AI, the decrease of third spaces, the disruption of our social flow via social media, and the rapid decline of romantic pursuit all point towards a world being created without grief and furthermore, a world without love.

Some, if not all, are a symptom of capitalism. We are drowning in debt, in bills, in responsibility, and we can’t afford grief to come and ruin all our progress. We can’t afford to break down for a few days after he didn’t call back, or after she ghosted. We can’t afford not to work if we lose a friend or deal with a death in the family. Nobody can afford grief, so why not lean into AI? Why not allow your ego to be boosted by a computer that has no real sentient ability? Why not turn off the parts of your brain that problem solve, that compartmentalize the feelings we are avoiding?

A lesson I’ve learned as I reach my 30s is that to avoid grief is to avoid love. And to avoid love is to avoid life. So, what do we do when we don’t have the capacity for grief but need it to experience growth? What do we do when we are being told that we can achieve a world without grief through devices like AI — devices that convince us that if we do everything right, say everything right, we can experience bliss?

Some years ago, a friend of mine went through a traumatic accident, and that’s when I realized that I didn’t know what to do with grief. I was experiencing things that were draining my energy. My spirit was tired, but even through all that, my friend needed me. The issue was that I had nothing left to give.

I did my best to visit them once I first heard the news. I tried to check in periodically, but my lack of presence for her through that led to the dissipation of the friendship. I was left feeling regret and shame for not being the best friend I could’ve been. I was defensive and wanted to let them know that I was trying my best. The emotions were heavy, yes, but the lessons served as growth for the version of me that exists today.

Had I avoided that moment with the use of therapy speak, AI, or just straight avoidance, I wouldn’t have been able to build better friendships later on in life.

This is your reminder, a grounding in reality, that even if you do everything right, you will not be able to avoid heartbreak. The right words, the right thoughts, the right body, the right skin color, the right gender, the right, the right, the right… It cannot save you from a human experience. No matter how much right-wing propaganda tells you it can. You are a person. And emotion is a pathway, not a blockade.

Now, to be clear, I am not a masochist. I am not pro-pain. If there were a way I could decrease suffering for all of us, I’d do it. There are some days I wish I could “spotless mind” myself. Some days, I’d give anything to erase my last ex from my brain, LOL. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how necessary that experience was. All of it, the pain, the confusion, the misunderstandings… it all mattered. It all helped me grow. It all helped me better realize what love is/is not for me. And with each new experience, my discernment grows sharper. My desires become clearer. An ending feels less traumatic. It’s just a moment. Just a lesson. Just another opportunity to grow.

This is not an invitation to purposely choose destructive things for the sake of growth. If you don’t keep yourself together, you may find yourself in a cycle of pain because you think that’s the only way to grow. But this is an invitation to stop avoiding the inevitable. Pain is a part of life. You do not have to accept every mode of pain, but you do have to accept that pain will exist, just as love will exist, just as life will exist. It will continue with or without your participation, but your participation is what will determine your growth.

And if you’re okay with never growing, then that’s fine. Choose a boring life, one without grief, or love, or color, or texture. Choose a life that spews exactly what you want to hear and see, so it can convince you to stay in a loop. Choose the loop. It will only erase you in the end.

Or choose the hard thing. The feelings that make your skin crawl. The words you need to say. Choose them. And bloom.

xoxo,

Simi