You're Not Alone...When News Hits close to home

There are some losses that hit differently because, in some small way, they feel close to home. The news of Hayden Panettiere’s death has been one of those for me. So much will be said about Hayden—her incredible talent, her struggles, her tragedy, and the circumstances surrounding her life. But there is something else I will remember. I will remember a mother.

People will never fully understand what it feels like to have your mother’s history with domestic violence and addiction become part of the story told after she dies.

I do.

Many people will never understand what it feels like to have your mother make the heartbreaking decision to give up custody of you because she knew that her addiction had a hold of her, and that she could not give you the life you deserved.

I do.

There is a particular kind of grief that comes from loving someone who could not save themselves—and understanding that sometimes, the most loving thing a parent can do is recognize that their child needs something they cannot provide. I don't know Hayden's daughter. I don't know everything that happened within their family. And I would never pretend to.
But I know what it means to be a child on the other side of a mother's addiction.

And so, while many will remember Hayden Panettiere for her talent, her beauty, her career, and her tragedy, I will also remember a mother whose love, whatever its imperfections, was strong enough to make an incredibly painful and selfless choice.

Sometimes love doesn't look like staying.
Sometimes love looks like letting go because you know your child deserves a chance at a life you aren't capable of giving them.
That is a complicated kind of love.
And I understand it more than most people ever will.
​
May Hayden rest in peace. And may we remember that behind every headline about addiction, trauma, and tragedy are human beings who loved each other, struggled, and tried to survive the best way they knew how.