Embracing Emotional Resilience: The Power of Feeling All Emotions

True strength is being alongside all of your imperfections.

Strength is being alongside all of those normally difficult feelings that come up and it not taking you off your center. That's what I think true strength is.

And I'm not saying you have to do this process on your own. I've done this with friends and I've been fortunate to have many people around me that have supported my sudden crying and sharing.

But I really don’t want to bottle this up. I don’t want to contain it under the illusion of someone who's holding it together. I believe not showing any emotion sits under the old paradigm and perceptions of what it means to be emotionally strong and resilient.

This journey has become deeply personal for me, as the second anniversary of my ex-husband’s passing on 18 August marked yet another pivotal moment of reflection.

Grief, like all emotions, has no clear beginning or end, and instead, it ebbs and flows, triggered by the smallest of things—like the scent of a tree or a birdsong that transports me back to those summer days on the little island we visited together. It’s a bittersweet kind of pull—one that brings both beauty and pain.

Dancing with Grief

Grief has been a complex teacher in my life. When my ex-husband died in 2022, there was a heaviness, a sorrow that settled into my chest, but I didn’t give myself the space to feel it completely at first. I threw myself into life again—dating, socializing, filling my time with busy distractions. But when I finally slowed down 6 months later, grief found me and it's danced into my awareness in deep waves and caverns ever since.

Recently, on August 5, 2024, at a small dance festival that doubled as my birthday celebration, the full weight of the impending anniversary surfaced during an ecstatic dance, in which I was intentionally allowing the fast movements to literally and figuratively, shake my emotions out to a birthday drum and bass banger.

It had been two years since Mike's death, and while I thought I had made peace with it, grief is unpredictable—it doesn’t follow a set schedule, and it can resurface when you least expect it. Even when you're having the time of your life, laughing and enjoying every moment of bliss, joy and ease in a sober summer camp.

It all gets released on the dancefloor.

The culprit drum and bass banger was Chase and Status End Credits - kind of ironic that I've only just read the lyrics or noticed the song name today as I write. Mike would definitely have approved - I am sure he was watching the whole time.

Resting in sweaty and sweet group hugs with my best friends' and new acquaintances after our epic and intense dance at 10am in the morning, (all very normal behaviour at a conscious dance camp), the festival leader announced my birthday, everyone gathered around me and began to sing.

In that moment, the warmth of their voices and the kindness in their faces triggered something deep within me. Recognising I was in the safest and most authentically loving space I could possibly be in at that moment, I crumbled! The strength, vibrancy and kick-ass goddess vibes I usually wore dissolved into ashes overwhelmed by their kindness and love. I couldn’t hold back the tears.

Tears flowed uncontrollably. Tears for me, tears for Mike's life and death, that he would have loved my birthday dance, tears for the group for being so blooming nice, tears for my twin brother who I missed dearly and was apart from on yet another birthday. Tears for group hugs and tears for genuine connection.

Their joyous faces turned to concern as my usual strength and exuberance didn't show up. I lay on the floor, blubbing my heart out as they continued to sing. It wasn’t the reaction anyone expected, least of all me. But in that vulnerable moment, I realized how much I needed this release—this permission to feel without restraint.

Their sweet harmonies and tender leaning in postures were exactly what I needed after my emotional purge.

They didn’t try to fix me; they didn’t try to stop my tears. Instead, they held space for me, offered me the mothering and softness I craved, soothing me with their presence as they offered words of beautiful acknowledgement and appreciation just for the gift of my existence, a round robbin of compliments shared from their hearts.

Someone fed me chocolate, and I was held in soft embraces, unable to contain the depth and duality of my sadness and joy. My tears flowed naturally, without shame or guilt, and I even received compliments afterward on how courageously and vividly I let my emotions run through me in front of such a large crowd.

The truth is, I didn’t think twice about letting it all out.

My tears flowed because I have trained myself to feel my emotions as soon as they arise, without shame or suppression. I see that as a strength, knowing I am not storing it in my body for later use. Instead, I let it move through me, allowing the sadness to have its moment, trusting that when it passes, I will feel lighter, more at peace.

That day was a reminder that grief doesn't need to be managed or contained.

Grief needs to be witnessed

The love and concern from those around me didn’t stop the pain, but it soothed me in a way that allowed me to accept it fully. I realized that I could be both strong and vulnerable—strong in my ability to let others see me in my messiness, and vulnerable in allowing myself to be held through it. I’ve been lucky enough to have friends who hold space for me, who don’t try to make things better but simply allow me to feel what I need to feel.

This is the power of fully feeling emotions.

The Power of Fully Feeling Emotions

Emotional resilience, isn’t about pushing emotions away or rushing through them to reach a state of positivity.

• It's about sitting alongside all of the feelings, even the uncomfortable ones, and letting them flow through.

• There’s power in allowing these emotions to rise, fall, and wash over you without rushing to find distractions or solutions.

• It’s not about suppressing them to appear strong but allowing them to move through you, no matter how inconvenient their timing might be​.

After our separation in 2017 and his passing in 2022, I found myself swept into a wave of emotions that I didn’t fully process at the time. I suppressed many memories, both good and bad, as a way of coping with the breakup and the move to a new city. But avoiding those feelings only delayed the healing I needed. It wasn't until much later that in Mike's death and acknowledging the depth of my grief, and with it, the positive memories I had buried started to emerge. In some ways those memories of love were now the most painful they've ever been. This is the process of transformation—not bypassing what hurts, but letting it reshape me gently over time​​.

There is something so liberating about sitting with those tough emotions and letting them unfold. This practice has helped me understand that true transformation doesn't come from denying emotions.

Instead, it is about accepting and embracing them, knowing that they too hold their own wisdom​.

The Role of Witnessing

What if the new strength was people being okay with seeing emotion?

There’s something immensely powerful about being witnessed in our vulnerability. It strips away the layers of pretense that we often put on to appear strong or composed.

Witnessing is healing, both for the one who feels and the one who watches.

It’s about staying present with the discomfort, with the tears, with the sadness, and letting them run their course.

Witnessing without judgment.

Seeing emotion in others, knowing you don't have to necessarily fix it. The act of witnessing is so healing for the emotion experiencer and for being able to witness it in yourself.

Witnessing and allowing healing in a collective and group environment integrates and welcomes our shadows into the light.

What if the new strength was also other people being okay with seeing emotion?

Compassion and Purification

As I’ve worked through my grief, I’ve discovered a deep well of compassion within myself—not just for others, but for myself as well. Grief, sadness, and pain have a way of opening the heart if we let them. They teach us empathy and remind us of our capacity to care deeply.

I’ve come to understand that this process of feeling emotions is also one of purification. Releasing anger, guilt, and shame without distraction or suppression, has been a way of cleansing my soul​.

There is a kind of purification that happens when we sit with our emotions long enough for them to do their work.

Grief burns through us like a fire, consuming the old, making way for the new.

It’s not easy, and it’s definitely not quick, but it is necessary. I’ve had to let go of old resentments, guilt, and shame as I’ve made peace with my past​​.

Balancing Emotions

The practice of feeling emotions without judgment has taught me that balance doesn’t come from avoiding difficult feelings but from allowing them to coexist with the joyful ones.

There’s a power in expressing emotions as they arise, without bottling them up for later. This is what it means to be resilient—not that we never feel pain or sadness, but that we let those emotions come and go without resistance​.

This is the essence of feminine energy in flow, a vital component to keep the natural balance of the highs and lows of the wave of life.

Chaos often comes with an unpredictable dynamic motion but the key insight here is that the energy of chaos is still moving. Not staying stagnant or allowing it to build into a sky-high dam ready to burst its bank and take out the nearby village in the process.

Consider the difference between buildings in Japan and Europe during an earthquake. Japanese buildings are designed to move with the earth’s vibrations, staying centered despite the shocks, most Western buildings will crack and fall down with the slightest shudder.

I’ve come to see emotional resilience in the same way—being flexible enough to allow emotions to move through without losing your center​.

By embracing the full range of emotions, I’ve found healing and growth.

This journey has been wildly transformative, not because I’ve found a way to avoid the pain, but because I’ve allowed myself to sit with it, to witness it, and to let it move through me.

True strength lies in being open to all emotions, in witnessing them without judgment, and in finding balance amidst the chaos.

Let’s embrace our emotions and grow stronger together​​.

Warmest love and hugs

Kimberley Maya

In loving memory of Mike who passed away on 18 August 2022 aged 45 years old, taken at our wedding on 3 Sept 2007.

May you rest on your own perfect dancefloor. Go well my love.