Toxic Resilience Will Take You Down

(Trigger warning: loss, grief, pregnancy loss)

Fires are blazing and memories are smoldering in piles of ash. Early shock turns into "thoughts and prayers," then quickly morphs into empty platitudes.

"We'll build back stronger."

"This is our moment to prove what we're capable of."

"We've weathered worse and we'll come through this again."

Well-intended encouragement in the throes of trauma isn't empathy. It's a demonstration of our own inability to sit with pain.

What else could we possibly say to someone who's just lost everything?

Sometimes that's the point. We shouldn't say anything.

I've never had my home go up in flames, thank God for that. But I've had my share of setbacks. Whether I would ascribe a capital or lowercase T to the traumatic experiences of my life, there's a thru line that connects them.

Drive, bordering on obsession, to get things back to 'normal.'

When I miscarried my second baby on a Thursday, I returned to work on Monday. Don't talk about it, carry on, be strong. I'd close my office door and secretly breakdown. It was the loneliest time of my life even though I was surrounded by people who loved me.

I carried my unprocessed grief right into my next pregnancy and an extended 56-hour labor. It wasn't until my doula asked the question, "What do you need to let go of to have this baby?" that I actually started to let it all out. My second daughter was born healthy hours later.

When we push our loss deep inside, it has to come out eventually.

It's the fight with my spouse that has nothing to do with chores and everything to do with not being seen.

It's the blame aimed at the kids when age-appropriate growing apart triggers deep feelings of grief over losing a parent.

It's the work relationship gone bad because power dynamics have always felt unsafe.

I believe the key to all of it is leaning into the pain, rather than away from it.

• We need collective permission to not be ok, whatever that looks like for us.
• We need systems that support self-care and mental health.
• We need communities that rally around us without pushing us when we're not ready to move on.
• We need time and space to feel and reflect.
• We need understanding when we take a step forward and ten back.
• We need sustained support that lasts well beyond the news cycle.

When our dreams are fractured, we must resist the pressure to move on. We can ask for time, support, space, resources. We can let people in even when they're uncomfortable.

When we're not the ones impacted, we can show up better. We can support without asking, we can listen without speaking. When we need something to say, we can offer empathy.

"I’m here for you and I care deeply about what you’re going through. Take your time, and know you don’t have to face this alone."

"I may not fully understand what you’re going through, but I want to support you in whatever way you need."

"This is a heavy burden to carry and it’s okay to lean on me for support."

"I don’t have the right words, but I want you to know that I’m here with you."

Resilience can’t be rushed, it takes time.

By leaning into the pain rather than avoiding it, we create space to heal and grow.

We will build back stronger, but we'll do it when we're ready.

Please help people affected by the 2025 California Wildfires by visiting redcross.org, calling 1-800-RED CROSS (800-733-2767) or texting the word CAWILDFIRES to 90999