Navigating Grief and Finding Hope Through Art
It seems hard to believe that the year is almost halfway through, and there’s so much that I feel I’ve had to unpack and endure. So much joy yet so much pain. So much to say about working a dead-end job, being paid in breadcrumbs while talking to angry people on the phone. So much to say about the grief I’ve been feeling.
(TW: Trigger Warning: This content discusses topics related to suicide.)
I was sitting at my desk at work one day, mentally struggling to get through the day. I was done with my shift when I finally clocked out. I then glanced at my phone and choked up at the news of a friend losing her battle with mental health. We lost her.
To this day, I’m still grieving, but what I’ve been thinking about lately is her passion, dedication, and drive to express herself through her art. Like myself, she was a dancer who would perform at burlesque shows and sing her heart out on stage. She was inspired by the works of Amy Winehouse, and she had the kind of vibrato that was memorable when hearing it for the first time. Her name was Rose.
We all talked about the power of expressing oneself through dance and other art forms. She had a passion for singing, and we’d all stay out till midnight coming back from Mellow Mushroom talking about what a dream it would be to express ourselves for a living. Doing art nonstop has always been a passion of mine. All forms of art are so powerful in their own way; it’s been said that expression is the opposite of depression. When we express ourselves, we feel seen, but it’s also said that dancers dance gracefully as if no one else is in the room. We dancers dance like no one’s watching.
My friend Rose was powerful in her outlook on life through expression in art, but also for what she advocated for. She attended a Women’s march in Los Angeles in 2018 to advocate for women’s reproductive rights. She and I would talk about LGBTQ rights, which I was very passionate about as a queer woman. Oftentimes while being in the underground dance community, as a queer woman, you do start to notice instances of homophobia and misogyny. When I would speak with her about my personal experiences, it felt safe to have those conversations with her. She understood, and I felt seen.
Through our art, she and I used our voices to share our stories and experiences. She surprised me at one of my dance shows while I went with my friend Zack to support her at her show
The deepest lesson I’ve learned from Rose is to never stop creating, as she was very artistic, but there were battles she fought behind closed doors that we never knew of. The last time I saw her, I told her about my new job and how I was still struggling both mentally and financially. She offered to share her food with me as we were celebrating a friend’s birthday. I felt lost that night, but it’s the art and the conversations we’ve all had as friends that drew me back into reality. My life is more than a computer job and material things in this life. It’s the time we’re given to spend with the people we care about because that time is not always promised. If I could speak to Rose again, I’d tell her thank you for hearing me vent and giving me support.
In her honor, I want to continue to talk about things on Medium that have always been at the center of my heart:
- Mental Health Awareness
- LGBTQ Rights
- Women’s Rights
- Personal Experiences
- Art in Dance
- Art in Music
- Art in Writing
And so many other topics that have changed who I am today. I turn 26 on the 25th of May and I’m going to be celebrating my big day along with Pride month in June. She and I would always talk about visiting our local queer bars downtown to celebrate. I feel honored to have known her, and in a recent dream, she spoke to me about my new relationship with my girlfriend Alexandria, congratulating me. I feel that she sees how happy I’ve been with my love, as that was another topic we’d frequently talk about as friends.
To close my article in speaking on my journey throughout this long yet painful half year, I have found a new love. She’s sat with me and held me through my tears over the loss of my good friend. She’s shared her stories with me as we laughed and held each other, and she’s supported me in my artistic journeys. Being the avid moviegoer she is, together my girlfriend and I watched a documentary on Franco Stevens and her journey to finding Curve, the Lesbian Magazine founded in 1990. I would like to soon experiment with the idea of creating a written series or publication in honor of Pride month, as this documentary has been deeply inspiring to watch. This gave me a sense of newfound hope in my artistic journey as a queer woman finding her place in the world. Without the love of my girlfriend, friends, and family, I don’t know where else I would be.
I plan on writing more this year before the year ends, and no matter how tired I get, I plan on being more consistent with hopes of reaching other readers and reading other stories. Stories do in fact make the world go round, and our lived experiences shape us. I’ll miss my friend Rose and carry the love and support she provided in our friendship.
As for the remainder of 2024, I’m still in search of myself.
If you or someone you know is going through a difficult time, please reach out for support. You don’t have to face this alone. Talk to a friend, family member, or a mental health professional. For immediate help, you can contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1–800–273-TALK (8255) or text “HELLO” to 741741 to connect with a caring counselor.
