As tears roll down my checks, I reflect. It’s been two days since the stabbing attack at Westfield Bondi Junction in Sydney, Australia. Two days of check-ins from family and friends here and around the world. Two days of reeling by the community having lost six beautiful and innocent souls. Two days of shock around the country. Two days of telling myself that “I’m fine.”
But maybe I’m not just “fine?”
I was there that day. In fact, I was about to step foot inside the mall when a stampede of scared civilians started running toward me. Panicked, I pushed my way into the nearest store. Myself along with a dad and his two kids, a mom and her daughter, and a handful of other strangers ran to the back of that William Sonoma in record speed. Once we were safe in the back room, I took a second to look around. No one had a clue what was going on; for all we knew there was a gunman on the loose. That’s what the energy felt like. Hence my panicked breathing and shaking body. Next thing I knew, three unbelievably kind ladies helped calm me down, providing comfort in their gentle eyes and soft voices.
As we all stood in the staged kitchen with dreamy Le Creuset pots and an idyllic island, watching uniformed men with rifles suit up as if going into battle, my mind began to run through what I had just experienced. The only reason I was in the area was because I had an appointment in the mall at 4. After running a few errands nearby, I decided to kill time by grabbing a juice and trying clothes on at a thrift shop. With only 10 minutes left before my appointment, I decided it was time to head inside. That never happened.
All of a sudden, the “what ifs” started snowballing in my brain. What if I had decided kill time inside the mall instead? What if I decided to use my favourite bathroom which just so happened to be right near the spot where the stabber was shot? What if, what if, what if. It could have been me. It could have been anyone I knew.
There’s a big part of me that doesn’t feel like I deserve to feel any sort of trauma from that day. I wasn’t inside, I didn’t see anything no human should see. There’s a part of me that is scared I am so numb to events like this from being raised in the United States. Events like this aren’t meant to happen in Australia, that’s part of the reason I love life here. I guess there’s also a part of me that wonders how to hold so much grief for everything going on in the world. Every day, another tragic headline pops up on my phone. Every day, I grow more hopeless.
However, I must admit, my gratitude and appreciation for life has grown over these last few days. This tragedy is a reminder that life is short and we must live every day like it’s our last. It is also a stark reminder that evil will always exist, even in places we least expect. It’s broken my heart to see this community so shattered and beaten down but I know the resilience will shine through. Bondi has welcomed me with open arms, and I plan to give whatever I can back in support.
For now, I’m going to acknowledge and hold all the feelings I am feeling. I’m going to give myself grace and compassion. And I’m going to breathe.
May the memories of all lives lost be a blessing.
Oh my, Emma, what a horrible thing to have happen and to be so personally close. No surprise that the grief of this reality taking precedence over the open hearted innocence you’ve felt living there with the community grief mixed with the gratitude of your own close call…complicated feelings that you’ll ride like a roller coaster for a while. Sending you love and hugs.
Sending all our love and looking forward to seeing you soon. Big hugs.