The World is Awake, So I Am Too

The words “authentic” and “vulnerable” are often cheaply used to describe a much more complex dissection of one’s personal mindset. Today, it was death that birthed my final decision to step over the wall I was straddling.

Have you ever lost someone close to you, like really close to you? That feeling where the sadness is so deep that it is confusing how the world can keep rotating. Don’t you know she’s dead? There is also a beauty that laces the emotions where the brevity of life takes center stage for those of us left behind. We are reminded that our life must have meaning, that we do not know how many minutes or years we have and so we are faced with the question of what is most important in life.

The work I do is very public, my digital presence a vital aspect of my work. I stare at my social media. Blank faced. Barely blinking. A happy, electric post that was just released a few hours ago, and now I feel empty inside. My aunt, whom I booked an emergency flight to the Philippines to see in 3 weeks, didn’t even make it to the end of the day. Video calls with family, scrolling through old pictures, crying between work calls, and quiet moments were followed by the realization that I need to navigate ‘showing up.’ I could give myself grace and take pause. I still have 4 kids to break the news to. There is no pause for a mother, not really. How will I navigate another death?

There are two things that explode from every memory: my aunt’s relentless love for people and her ability to roll with the punches. No matter what happened, it seemed she could shrug her shoulders, give a soft smile, and trust that everything would work out.

I’ve decided that this time, grief will look different. This time, I want to stay present because when I thought of this as reversed, where someone else suddenly drops off then reemerges happy and electric again, then there was a moment that I have missed. Mourning does not have to look like being sad every moment, that would be too much for our body. When we are happy it also does not mean we are not in pain. Let me be clear, I am not advocating that everyone should force themselves to publicly mourn. I only mean to say, let’s abandon the mindset that a grieving person has to look a certain way or that we are afraid or feel guilty to have a smiling moment. Decidedly I feel compelled to be present (this time at least) because this time it feels like the right way to honor my aunt. She was authentic, honest, not transparent, but very real.

Perhaps we all kind of look for a degree of that just-right balance of keeping some parts of us only for those who have earned it and other parts of us celebrated in the open.

I believe this is the beginning of what I will call The Naked Professional, a monthly column on the idea of personal branding that is not manufactured.

This first issue is dedicated to my Tita, Irma Teope Chavez, who held the hearts of many globally and remains in ours forever.