Revitalizing My Vibe

On July 14th, 2022, as I woke from a nap,  I was shook to my core by a call stating my mother died. She died unexpectedly and suddenly. " My mom, not in bad health, had just called me a few days before. She was a fabulous woman, an adopted mother to many, a beautiful retired beautician, and embarking on a journey into styling. That day in July, I got a call from my dad screaming. My mom was gone; he found her cold in the doorway of the foyer of my childhood home. I immediately screamed, so loud my voice would be gone for a week. I sat in the middle of my loft, pumping hot tears onto my favorite orange couch.

Everything I once was, was no more. My relationship with my mother was a balance of endless support, pure love, and the best phone calls, texts, and occasional visits home. This was intertwined with her strong expectations and the responsibility to be the best Tanise I could be. She was known as the fierce Tammy Avington.  One of my favorite things were our long chats about everything from recipes, fashion, healing, fun around town, thrifting, family updates, stories to the past, her loneliness, and whatever her latest obsession was. These obsessions could range from a new seasoning at the grocery store to a new beauty product or gadget she discovered at TJ Maxx. 

Knowing I would have someone I could always count on, regardless of how big or small the ask, served as a steady sense of peace and comfort for me. This especially rang true having moved far away from home 12 years prior to her passing. I lost all sense of reality with her death. Those phone calls could be no more.  I could no longer text her about that recipe I forgot to write down. I would no longer feel a sense of excitement seeing “Mommy” pop up on my phone screen. After she passed I spent the next year going through insomnia, depression, and deep, deep sadness that could not be filled. So sad that I had to take a leave of absence from work, which eventually led me to finding a new role. The bubbly, social butterfly, lighthearted and warm loving person I once was, was no longer. After a year of these feelings, I decided to take my joy back. Now my life is consumed with beautiful moments of joy and success, mixed with an everyday hole in my heart. I took a lot of time for healing, but it was no easy feat getting to where I am now.

On August 9th 2023, about a year and a month after my mom's sudden passing, I lay on the same orange couch, now in a new house, making the decision to discover the new me. I knew that I would have to be intentional about achieving my happiness. I knew how I got here, but how would I get out of it? I went to my iPhone notes app and started writing. What can I do to be happy? What new things can I try? What old hobbies can I revisit that once brought me joy? How can I actually practice the vulnerability I’m learning about in therapy? Over the next several hours, I created a checklist of things I would do to get my vibe back and called it "Revitalizing My Vibe."

That day I made the decision to walk into the grey, balancing grief with finding myself again. And baby, let me tell you, it worked. My checklist included things like getting real with myself about why I needed to find my joy, dedicating a small space to vibing out and discovering the new me, cleaning and decluttering that vibing space, choosing how I would track my journey and more to get myself started. I wrote a gratitude list, did a major brain dump, created a list of things I loved doing and wanted to try, including how to honor my grief while not letting it consume me. I did as many things on my list as I could over the course of 90 days.

Now thinking back, in those dark moments lying on the very same couch where I received that devastating phone call, much of this list reflects my mommy as a whole. The advice she gave so freely. Declutter, spend time in nature, find an accountability system, actually use one of those 15 journals lying around, affirm yourself, shop for something new, reach out to someone that’s on your mind. The list could go on. And what a beautiful epiphany. My sweet mommy helped me heal, from her own loss, even after the grave.

I spent the next three months writing, cooking, sunbathing, committing to not skipping therapy appointments and actually practicing the tools I was learning. Working through self-discovery and prioritizing my healing made my grief feel and look like a glimmer in the night sky. In a world (and mind) surrounded by darkness and sadness, I slowly began to create my own galaxy of growth. Writing felt like a release so intimate that my readers couldn’t help but feel my pain and my healing. Sitting in the sun, without my phone and meeting my emotions where they were, felt like a walk uphill. Hard, tiring, all consuming, a slow burn. But I felt a great sense of pride and victory as I reached the top. This is what honoring my grief felt like.

I shared in writing how my mom, who was my main supporter in my journey to move from the Midwest down South, spent years collecting clothes. And how after her death, she was still supporting families as we gave away over 90 industrial-sized bags and 50+ boxes to men, women, and children in need. I sported a beautiful coat all fall and winter long that made me feel wrapped up in her love. Sometimes I longed for her so deep that this coat became an emotional support item for me. Not only did I look fly as ever, I was also slightly dependent on its warmth to mimic the rich love I received from my mother everyday.

I got back to hosting and attending events, found a new job, bought a house with my husband, chopped my hair into a pixie, and got back to dressing like the person I knew I was meant to be. Diving into my grief during triumphant moments of joy brought on a high, proving I could succeed in the midst of deep loss. But whew, did it also bring on gut-wrenching sadness that sometimes took me days to get out of. This is all part of honoring my new friend, grief. Leaning into it, recognizing that good and bad things can exist at the same time. Walking into the grey meant a rare sense of vulnerability which I soon would find was a great, great gift. Allowing myself to enjoy life, while still thinking about her constantly, gave me strength and a pleasure for life that only God could bless me with.

As I shared my journey on social media and with close friends and family, many asked me to share what I did and offer it up as a resource. I turned my iPhone notes checklist into a free, shareable PDF and launched my newsletter at the same time! Something in my spirit told me to take it a step further and detail out a roadmap for the entire 90 days. I was obedient to God's calling, and I DID IT!

This journey of personal evolution, finding the things that could bring me joy while honoring the everlasting hum of grief, definitely got me to finding my vibe. It’s funny how life can change when you make the decision to go deep within. Going so deep that you discover new, tantalizing forms of self that are so sweet you can’t deny them. You remind yourself that you are that girl, and that it’s okay to act like it. And that’s what I call “Revitalizing My Vibe”.

Going through this process helped me find a friend in grief. I actually found it to be my greatest teacher. While grief brought a season of pure distraught, it also opened up my eyes to all the beautiful things this world has to offer. I found my smile that I loved, but had lost for a while. Grief comes (and will always come) when it wants. But many of those visits no longer feel like a life-sucking leech, permanently attached to my whole being. It now feels like a friend that holds me accountable to my loss while experiencing life’s greatest joys. 

Going through “Revitalizing My Vibe” and the process of self-discovery helped me feel like grief could be my special companion. A constant, gentle nudge, telling me that although the biggest part of me is missing, she can now see life through my eyes. Even if many of my days are still tear-filled, finding my vibe through grief taught me that I need to be living my best life, just the way my mommy Tammy Avington desired.

I am a witty, light-hearted fun loving woman that lost myself a bit even before my mother passed in suddenly in July 2022. Through healing and working to overcome grief, I share my life, my progress, a little bit of fashion, beauty, and how to thrive through difficulty.

SISTORIES PROMPT

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Have you ever experienced a life-altering loss? How did you grieve that loss and what did you learn about yourself in the process?

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