Unmasking as an Community Offering

What Grief Is Teaching Me About Consistency, Sacrifice, and Being Human

As I come to the page to write these words, it’s clear to me why I have avoided putting them to paper for so long. It’s tough for me to admit that I cannot think my way out of something, that I can’t rest in the cerebral, the spiritual, the unspoken and unseen to find solace in an otherwise uncontrollable situation. Every situation over the past year has drawn me to feel deeply, love honestly, and sacrifice myself in ways I have consciously avoided to protect my emotions and ultimately avoid my humanity.

Unmasking is about sacrificing your mask to step into your truth because love doesn’t exist without sacrifice. But let’s be clear: Sacrifice is not about pouring out without return. It’s about finding the balance between pouring into yourself and using your gifts to pour into others. It’s about trust that you can move forward without the barriers that were born from your fears instead of your truth. It’s about releasing control, shedding performance, and gaining self-sufficiency and community support.

Not a performative community but a real community
The kind that meets you where you are because you’re being, not pretending.

Sacrifice, in its highest form, acknowledges one's humanity while honoring the humanity of others. It’s rooted in safety, not just one's own, but the safety of the collective, because we are not meant to heal in isolation.

Today, I choose to heal in community, show up in my fullness, and offer my truth. I am grieving.

My Offering, My Truth.

My mom was diagnosed with Stage Four colon cancer in March. The prognosis was blunt: six months without treatment, maybe eighteen with it. We're both realists, so we’ve always faced things head-on and not to prolong the inevitable. But now, as those six months start to look more like three, I find myself confronting the reality of mortality in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Off the cusp of Mother's Day, I am challenged with the reality that I’m losing my best friend. My ride or die—my mother. I can not think my way out of my emotions this time, and honestly, I don’t want to because then I miss the moments to live, feel, and be human.

My Mama and Me on Christmas Eve 2023

As tears hit my keyboard, I safely share that I am not okay. I need to take a break from the expectations I placed upon myself in order to pause and savor these last moments with my mom while I still have her in physical form. As I move through this transition, I am being called back to the page because writing is healing, so I won’t be on live today, but instead, I am choosing to show up and offer myself in a way that is aligned with the season I am in.

The Role of Self-Acceptance in Community Healing

In the past, I mistook consistency for showing up the same way all the time, but that is not reality. The most important thing is that you consistently show up for yourself in a way that honors you, not external expectations. I am called to remember my strength as a woman and to see the beauty of my fluidity. I am learning to surrender to myself, accept my emotions, feel my feelings, move through them gently, or radically, or with anger, because all of that is valid. I am valid.

Unmasking is deeper than self-actualization because that only serves you, but your healing is designed to be done through community, not outside of it. Our stories, our grief, and the joy of stories told remind us that our healing is not only for us but also to move humanity forward. Yet to accomplish this, we need more than personal safety; we need community support because none of us is designed to do life alone.

Writing this was healing. I no longer feel alone or weighed down by unspoken emotions. Let this be a reminder: consistency isn’t about showing up the same way every day—it’s about showing up, period. It’s about trusting that you’ll be held, even when what you bring to the table isn’t polished, pretty, or fully healed. That’s not real life. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s confusing or downright infuriating. But you are worthy in every state. You deserve to show up in a way that feels good and honest. Just don’t stop. Don’t get stuck in the emotions—move through them. Let your soul guide you. You already know the way.

How to Support My Work

If you enjoy Divergenthood, consider supporting my work by writing a comment, sharing the publication, upgrading to a paid subscription, or buying me a coffee—or takeout for the nights I can’t find the energy to cook after caregiving, since I am being honest.

I appreciate your support in any form. It is universal encouragement for me to keep writing.

Until the next time when the ink dries.

With love,

Sia