Unraveling, with Brooke Baldwin

Dearest Unravelers and Unravelers-to-be – 

This was the scene this week from my front yard fire pit with my bestie over our favorite Chinese chicken salad takeout and mocktails:

Natalie Kuhn

: “Have you ever heard of imaginal cells?” 

Me: “You mean… the goo?!”

Natalie: “YES! The goo! Go to the goo!”

Me: “A lady in Sedona once told me I am the goo.”

Natalie: “You are the goo. From the outside it feels like interminable waiting and limbo and grief. But from the inside it’s actually a full reconstruction of your DNA.”

Me: 🤯

Some of you may know exactly what we were talking about (A+ to you!). 🐛 🧬 🦋 For the rest of you, I’ll cannot wait to explain this miracle of nature and how it relates to our Unraveling. This “goo” concept has ROCKED MY WORLD this week. (Side note: Girlfriends. Jeeeez. What would we do without them!) But let me back up five steps first.

This week I’ve been feeling — among the usual Unraveling emotional culprits and gratitudes — grief. Specifically, grief involving my family. I recently traveled for a quick three days to my hometown, Atlanta, and while I was there, got to squeeze my nephews after two years of no little-boy-sticky-fingered-hugs. I haven’t written about this heartbreak out of respect for everyone involved — and quite honestly, I didn’t understand it enough to explain. (I still don’t.) But I’ve also realized I don’t need to. Sometimes in life, not everything needs to be analyzed, re-analyzed and discussed. Sometimes we just count our wins when we get ‘em and move on.

Whatever caused this two year rupture (I have no doubt I contributed somehow) — I know two things to be true: one — these kids’ parents are outstanding at raising them and loving them, and two — these boys are now back in my life. Thank God.

As for my grief… it settled in only once I got back to LA. It wasn’t obvious at first. Surprisingly, no tears. Just this deep, low hum in my body that I couldn’t explain until two women at different times this week had to explain my own emotion to me: “Oh Brooke, what you’re feeling… is grief.”

Grief. Got it.

Maybe my grief is because I don’t have children (my eggs are still on ice — which I’ve written about here). Maybe it’s because I’m a Cancer (according to astrology, we’re the nurturers / protectors / souls of the home = family is #1). Maybe it’s because my family just isn’t able to fill my cup in the way I crave. Whatever the reason, here’s the hard truth: I have been white-knuckling my family for years. And I have to stop.

What’s that phrase? “You keep going to the well, but there’s no water.” Yeah. Something like that.

Don’t get me wrong (and this is so appropriate to include given it’s Mother’s Day) my mom’s ability to tell the most insane / hilarious / gut-wrenching stories while tickling my back and ultimately lulling me to sleep fills my heart in a way no one else can. But I’d be fooling myself if I said our family dynamic isn’t complicated. It is. Whose family story isn’t?

45 years in — I’ve done a hell of a lot of work on myself. I’m really proud of that. And I have the most incredible Chosen Family. And partner. And and and. But I’ll still on occasion drop back into this old, familiar pattern of flying home, looking for a fix of family and then — BAM — getting the cream pie to my face. I know it’s an expectations game. Sometimes I’m able to keep mine in check and have a beautiful, love-filled, healthy-boundaried visit. But on this last trip, I slipped up. I dropped my boundaries. And just like that — without getting into too much detail — cue the cream pie. Can anyone else relate?!

It’s kind of confusing to feel grief over something or someone who is still very much alive. My best friend Natalie from the fire pit lost her mother years ago. We were talking about grief that night too. She was reminding me grief isn’t only for death. Grief is also for disillusionment. It’s also for growing up and out of old, deeply-grooved dynamics — family or otherwise. When something happens, something we once knew or thought we knew, someone stable or sacred ceases to be what once was (including our own selves thanks to our own evolution) — we must grieve, even if the person or the relationship is still physically present. I know that’s not breaking news. And yet. AND YET I needed reminding of this this week. Maybe you do too.

And this grief brings me to… the goo. 🐛 🧬 🦋

THIS IS GOING TO BLOW YOUR MIND.

I’ve made a special video just for you explaining this below. Keep scrolling or subscribe!