Reality Revisited: Brand New

First posted in July 2019. We have grown so much more than we ever thought we would, and we want to share our earlier posts. We aim to reflect on the early struggles of our grief, and what we went through without our mum. We are proud of where we have come from, and of where we are going. We hope you are as well.

If you are struggling with your grief, that is okay. You are not alone.


“I feel brand new.” I said.

Brand new.

It was then that I was struck by something; At what point did I become broken? Or rather, at what point did I start seeing myself as broken? Was it when Mum passed away, or was it the first time she went into hospital? Or was it earlier than that, when my parents split up? 

This idea that I am “brand new” again, is meant to invite peace, gratitude and hope. You are a new person now. You’re like a barbie in a box on a shelf. Dazzling and smiling. But plastic and false. Does this phrase just allow us to distance ourselves from our old pain? 

People often take comfort from the fact that every 7 years, every cell in our body has been completely replaced. As if we’ll be reborn, this new body will carry us without knowing the reason why certain songs make us cry, or why we can’t go to certain places anymore.

Why do we have this self-imposed idea that throughout our lives we are meant to maintain a perfect, crisp version of ourselves? Like untouched snow, or fresh school shoes that we don’t want to scratch.

It confuses me. “I feel brand new.” It just sounds desperate to me now. Why do we have to hide our suffering? 

When you tell someone you are grieving, there’s one of two reactions: people will either jump to tell you their own experiences of grief, without really hearing you, or they are flustered, not knowing what to say. They see you now as a tight rope walker, and at any moment you could fall. 

It is so rare to find someone who just listens. Perhaps that’s why we are so intent on reaching a point where we are again, ourselves. A version of us where we don’t make people uncomfortable, or where “they lost …” isn’t attached to our names. A “brand new” version. Evee 2.0, this model comes with a blog and a permanent detachment from her emotions.

Grief feels all encompassing. It is like a god that dictates your day. Hovering over your shoulder, pushing obstacles into your path that seem unconquerable. Maybe it laughs when you think you see your loved ones smile in a stranger’s face. I think sometimes it’s easy to forget who we were before this God of Grief. 

And I don’t mean before the death. I mean, who we were before worry, illness, lack of sleep, caring, counting medicines, mental illnesses, etc. 

I can’t remember who I was before grief. It’s simple.

Perhaps that’s why I said I felt “brand new”, because although I still grieve and my heart still hurts, I’m moving forward with it. It doesn’t forge my path for me anymore. I don’t let it define me anymore. I am discovering who I am again, but really, maybe it’s who I was all along. 

And whilst I am discovering these “brand new” sides of me, I don’t want to be “brand new”. I never want to have that body that Mummy hasn’t hugged, cuddled, kissed or stroked. I would never take away the pain I have felt because my Mum was an incredible woman who I am so proud to know and call my mother. 

So forget brand new.

I am not brand new. I am proud of my scars, as cheesy as that is. I don’t want to be Evee 2.0 because I’m not even old enough to have discovered all of Evee 1.0 yet.

If you are my age and have been through something similar, you may find it difficult to relate to people your own age, but you will still find people who you relate to. You are not broken. You are not ‘damaged goods’. Losing someone at a young age makes us feel different. But that’s all it is; we feel different. We aren’t. You are still young; and you can still be young. You will one day laugh so hard that you get stitches, and another day you will cry over the shattering pain you feel. That’s okay.

You’re a person something bad happened to. So, what? You are still you.


Copyright © 2019 The Grief Reality. All Rights Reserved

29 thoughts on “Reality Revisited: Brand New

  1. You are right. Feel. Open yourself up to it. Joy and sadness alike. In our lowest moments we seem to lose ourselves. Not remembering who we were before whatever it was that happened in our lives to knock us down. We remember only when we catch glimpses of the person that we shut out for one reason or another. In moments like that it is hard when people flee from not wanting to hear any more or those that just shrug and go on. It is also rare to find that ear to hear you out. They are there though. They are the ones who understand the trials you are facing and even knowing they can do little more to help other than let you release. They are there. Sometimes hidden within unexpected people.

  2. This is great! This is how I feel in recovery. I started drinking when I was 16 and I’m just now 601 days sober at 36. I’m still me, but I’m just now figuring out “who” I am. Sure, I’m divorced twice and currently living the single, crazy cat lady life, but I’m a good person at heart and am working on being the best darn me I can be every day. As long as I’m putting one foot in front of the other (no matter how small that step is, then I know I’m going to continue moving forward and changing as new life experiences happen.
    I like to use Dory’s line in Finding Nemo during the rough patches and “just keep swimming” because so far I’ve made it through every bad day I’ve ever had. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

    1. You’re story has really touched me, that’s incredible that you have been sober for that long, you must be amazed at your strength and power.
      The crazy cat lady life never hurt anybody!! Good luck on your journey, just keep swimming 🥰

  3. Beautiful post. My daughter is 16 and speaks about a lot of the emotions and struggles you touch on here. I want her to read this to show her she is okay. In fact she is amazing and my hero.

    1. It is so good that she is able to talk about her feelings emotions. Hopefully she can find some help from readin it, just to know she’s not alone.
      To go through everything so Young shows a true strength:)

  4. Not only you are ‘still you’ Evee. You are a much better version of what you were before 😊
    Happy days come and they go
    Sad days come and they go.
    Watch them both with peace.
    Love and blessings

    1. I think we have definitely had our world rocked, and for a long time I believed there wasn’t a safe place for me here now. this is changing though, and I couldn’t be more grateful 🙏

  5. Dearest Evee, wisdom also comes in various ages, and you have been blessed with it in abundance.
    Actually, the body’s cells replace at different rates, fat cells lasting longest of the ‘replace-able ones.’
    However, there are cells that are with you from embryo to the end of one’s life, particularly in the neural system, eyes and reproductive organs. Add that the DNA that regulates the replacement of cells is continually replicated, so you are correct that you are not physically new. Your body is still the one your Mum hugged. 😉
    However, in our spirits The God Who Is CAN make us “born again,” completely new, as we discover how to pray and walk in His presence. See John 3:1-21 and 2 Corinthians 5, particularly verse 17. Good stuff.
    ❤️&🙏, c.a.

      1. Well, you and Katie ARE loved and prayed over almost every day. Though we have not met, it feels Iike I know you from your blogs. 🙂

  6. Thank you for sharing! the heart filled with memories will go on…. “Every single thing that has ever happened in your life is preparing you for a moment that is yet to come”. (Author Unknown)…. 🙂

    Hope you are having a wonderful holiday filled with peace and love and until we meet again..

    May flowers always line your path
    and sunshine light your way,
    May songbirds serenade your
    every step along the way,
    May a rainbow run beside you
    in a sky that’s always blue,
    And may happiness fill your heart
    each day your whole life through.
    (Irish Saying)

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