Long hug season (noun): a period of life when you’re going through something hard, during which people instinctively offer you long, lingering hugs - whether you want them or not.
We all go through these seasons. The longer I live, the more I realize life is a series of long hug seasons - we’re just alternating between being the giver and the receiver.
When I’m in a long hug season, I want out of it fast. Sometimes that’s true even in the exact moment of receiving a long hug. Are you hugging me because you think this might be the last time? Because you think I’m going to die? Because you feel so bad for me? MAKE IT STOP!
The world likes to push us through these moments quickly too. Loved one dies? After a couple of months, you better get over it and get back to living life! Finish cancer treatment? Be excited and move on and pretend it never happened!
But even if we try to mentally skip ahead and get through the tough times as quickly as possible, there’s still stuff left behind. So I’m starting this writing space to honor the long hug seasons of my life, and maybe yours too.
Slowing down to feel it all
I used to be very “go go go.” I didn’t pause to acknowledge happy moments in my life, or the hard moments - I just didn’t pause a lot. I remember when I first started working as a TV reporter years ago, and the main note I got from my bosses and coaches was to slow down. They were referring to my talking speed, but it definitely could have applied to more areas of my life. It’s still something I’m working on, but I know that when I slow down and really acknowledge where I am, it pays off in the long run. Moving quickly through life for so long meant that I missed a lot of things. Small things, like the beauty of a wildflower. And bigger things, like my queerness (which I didn’t start figuring out until my thirties).
Writing has become one of the best ways I can get myself to slow down. It helps me process through my emotions and thoughts, so that I can understand where I’m at right now, in this one moment. Eventually, it helps me look back at my progress someday in the future.
Sharing and the pickle jar
Mostly, my writing has been for myself. But I’ve shared it in some small spaces, like grief writing groups and cancer writing groups. And while it is always terrifying, it has felt really good to share, because there’s always at least one person who relates. So I’m ready to start sharing here in this little corner of the internet.
Long hug seasons can feel really lonely. You might get a lot of hugs, but that doesn’t always mean you feel connected or understood. I’ve learned I need spaces where I can be seen and understood. That’s what helps me feel less alone. Of course, a cancer writing group is going to be supportive… But what happens when I start sharing where other people can read it? I don’t know yet. Some might relate and love it. Others might roll their eyes or think I’m oversharing. That’s okay, too.
I just thought of a weird metaphor for this that might be a little too much, but hey, this is my space, and this is what you’re gonna get. Think about a jar of pickles. The pickles might be delicious, but if you keep the jar closed, you’ll never know. You only find out how good they are if you open the jar and try one. So far, my writing has been inside the pickle jar. I’m ready to open the jar and let some of it out. Maybe you love pickles, and you’ll love some of the things I write here. Or you might hate pickles, and hate every single thing I write. Fine! My pickles aren’t for everyone. Okay, enough pickles for now. But you get the idea.
Grief needs to be witnessed
Grief author David Kessler says, “grief needs to be witnessed” - a line that has always stuck with me. He explains that having your own grief witnessed, and witnessing the grief of someone else, is one of the first steps towards healing. I very much feel that.
So this is a space for my grief to be witnessed. This is a space for processing. It’s also for sharing resources, and things that help me through various long hug seasons, whether it’s mental health struggles in general, getting through breast cancer, losing my mom to suicide, or anything else.
This is a space to help myself, in hopes that maybe it will help one person out there who reads it. Welcome.
Thanks for being here. If you’re in your own long hug season, I hope this space helps you feel a little more seen.