Serving in the role of support system to many throughout the pandemic, my team and I have been riding the rollercoaster of emotions with our clients, all while sorting out our own various highs and lows.

It has been an experience that has taught me there is one catalyst serving as jet fuel for this nauseating ride more than any other, and that is our collective struggle to process – and accept – the unknown.

The litany of “what ifs” has run the gamut throughout the past year – literally 365 days of living on repeat, holding our breath for more of the same while simultaneously waiting for the next germ-filled bomb to drop. We’ve disguised our discomfort with nervous laughter about the predictability of comfy pants, failed homeschooling attempts, and copious amounts of alcohol consumed. 

Yet beneath it all, our insides are rattled as we wonder, when will this all be done?

Even now, as a glimmer of hope extends on the horizon, the “what ifs” remain, if not translated into another form. We wonder what life will look like, what will be the new normal, if and how our kids will fully bounce back, rebound.

Although at this stage, with every passing question, I can’t help but think there’s a great gift wrapped deeply in the unknown.

Because if you had ever told me when I walked out of my business on March 16th, 2020, locking the doors behind me with tears in my eyes, that an entire year would go by and we’d be nowhere back to full operating capacity, I can assure you that right then and there, I would have thrown away the keys, punctuated by a dramatic “I give up.”

But because I didn’t know, I’ve had the opportunity to prove myself. To fight for something like I’ve never fought before, to be faced everyday with the choice of recommitting myself to those around me, while they all stood by my side collectively saying, “this ship is not going down.”

And guess what?

So have you.

You’ve shown up every day (yes, likely in those comfy pants), buckled down to help your employer survive, or perhaps to ensure that your children survived the day without fear in their Zoom-ed over eyes.

You’ve cried on the floor of the bathroom, kitchen or in your car, begging the universe to answer just how much more were you supposed to endure, then dried your eyes, pulled up those damn comfy pants, and headed back into your home battlefield for more.

You’ve solidified your inner circle, learning who you can count on and who you absolutely cannot. You’ve been in relationships that have flourished and others that have fractured, the latter of which you now know you cannot unlearn.

You’ve stared at the ceiling for nights on end.

Felt a new height of loneliness despite how many people were in your home.

Contemplated things you dare not speak, because not all thoughts are meant to be heard.

You’ve grown.

You’ve fought.

And at times, yes – wisely – you gave up.

But despite what your exhausted, inflamed body is telling you, you’re stronger for it. Infinitely so. And you would never possess the knowledge about yourself and those around you if it wasn’t for the gift of the unknown.

So while we’re all so eager to have this ordeal behind us, let us vow to not let it have the last laugh by imagining that it left us all untouched. 

Let us walk away proudly changed as we celebrate our new, legitimate freedom from the fear-filled grip of not always knowing by burning those comfy pants.

Laughing with our heads tilted back, “if we only knew…”