Catriona
Catriona is an author and journalist at Cosmopolitan. She writes the grief newsletter Crocuses in the Snow.
Her mum died in 2005 and her grandma died in 2014. Shortly after her mum died, Catriona’s dad transitioned from male to female.
“I kept a diary while my mum was dying. I was still dotting my i’s with hearts. Adding stickers when I’d kissed a boy.
I was in such deep denial for such a long time. I only went to one counselling session. I said to my friends, “I’m not going again - that bitch was trying to make me cry.”
Post-pandemic, like everybody, I was struggling. I started to go to therapy again. But I started to have panic attacks. I think I unearthed too much too quickly.
Doing this writing is my own safe version of therapy.
At first, I felt like an imposter. In journalism, you investigate a topic and try to find an answer.
But people have said they don’t want answers. Someone told me: “I don’t want to read an expert’s advice; I just want to hear from someone like me.”
I’ve always loved the fun of magazines.
Thick Glamours and Cosmos. I loved Mizz. Just 17. Heat was so funny back in its day. Any magazine I could buy, I would.
My mum was a feminist journalist. And magazines weren’t seen as feminist at all. We’d listen to All Saints Never Ever and she’d say, “You shouldn’t be attaching so much of your self-worth to what a man thinks.”
Recently, I went to see a medium for a piece I’m writing.
He said “Your mum sits beside you every morning as you write. She’s very proud of you.”
I kind of scoffed. Of course he’s going to say my mum is proud of me; I’ve just paid him!
But at the same time, I loved hearing it. It was a really comforting thing.
“I find the process of untangling my thoughts to write about them really helpful.
I feel like I learn about myself every single time I write. ”
I was in London throwing myself into journalism when my Grandma died. Her death was pivotal for me.
I felt shame about that, grief-wise. I mean, my mum had already died. I thought I should be able to cope. But every grief is different.
I feel stronger in who I am since starting my newsletter. Since exploring myself. Since creating a small community of people who understand; who I feel safe with.
I’m thinking about what will actually make me happy rather than what I think will make me happy. Or what will impress other people.
I haven’t got it all figured out. But I’m going to try to find answers by talking about the things I’m most afraid of admitting.
I find the process of untangling my thoughts to write about them really helpful.
I feel like I learn about myself every single time I write.
I like to explore is different paths. Lives we could have lived. I’m always pondering them.
My dad transitioned not long after my mum died.
Sometimes when trans people come out, their families say, “What about me? What about the person I’m losing?”
And I always say, “You’re not losing someone, you’re gaining someone who’s so, so, so, so much happier.”
My mum always knew about my dad but, 18 years ago, there was a lot of fear.
Dad had to hide this huge, huge part of herself for so long.
There was something that was lost, like with all transitions in life. But it’s also been this joyful thing.
After mum died, my dad had a kind of vision. My mum came back and gave him ‘permission’.
And it saved her. It saved our family.”