Because I’m not a Catholic, approaching major Catholic icons such as the Blessed Mother Mary can feel odd at first. When I first began bonding with her, I really felt like I didn’t know what I was doing. But talking with the Mother of God, at least in my prayers, was truly soothing, and still is.

Ever since I first built my bond with the Mother of God, I’ve noticed that a recurring theme I have with my talks with her is a release of emotions that I have trouble letting go of. This seems to be especially true when the emotion is grief of some sort.

It’s OK to be Upset

This is the first instance I can recall of her helping me let go of my emotions, and for a number of reasons, this was one of the most traumatic moments in my life thus far.

Leading up to this, I had been living in a college dorm that was filled with vile homophobic girls that seemed to be driven to single me out through passive-aggressive verbal jabs, and actions that could be defined as stalking. This lasted for roughly a semester and a half, and it finally got to the point where I knew that I needed somebody to help me.

But…I made the wrong choice. At this time, I had a deep crush on a guy I had seen around campus who often smiled at me warmly, and had a small talk with one time about trivial matters. What really justified my crush on him was the Christian attitude he seemed to have, along with the occasional cross necklace he wore.

The night before this moment of catharsis happened, I had prayed earnestly about wanting this guy to come to my aid and stop these girls from harassing me further. In truth, I think I was hoping for a “knight in shining armor”.

Instead, the next day, he turned out to be just as homophobic as those girls. And the revelation was what finally led to me breaking down over what I was going through. I remember sitting in my dorm room, wearily admitting to God that I needed help from Him, and not a human.

I also tried to talk to Mary, and the instant I did, I started sobbing, the grief I had kept pent up rushing out of me. As I wailed to her about how upset I was at the unfair and unprovoked treatment I had received from my peers, the anger came out of me too, dissipating quickly after a matter of seconds.

Three days later, God safely got me moved out of that dorm and to a safer one.

Divorce isn’t the End

The next time Mother Mary helped me release my grief was back in 2015 when my Mom and stepdad decided to divorce. Because he failed to treat my Mom with the respect she deserved, I was relieved. At the same time, it hurt to see the pain the plan to separate was causing her.

On the porch, about a week after hearing the news, I started talking to Mary about it, and instantly started crying once more. After I finished talking to her, I felt much better about the situation.

As of now, my Mom is with the man who is no doubt her God-given soulmate. Truth be told, I’ve never seen her so happy and at peace before.

It’s likely that Mother Mary did something to aid in the uncomfortable transition my family felt when my stepdad permanently left us.

Loneliness Truly Hurts

Only a few months later, around the end of September, the loneliness that comes from not having the right companion hit me hard. I didn’t want to admit that I was hurting, because it’s scary to admit that the pain is so deep-reaching.

On my bed, after praying to God about it, asking for help, I started talking to Mary again, and naturally, that made the tears flow thick.

In all likelihood, she understands loneliness all too well. After all, she had to watch her Son perish on the cross, for our sake. She watched the people he came to save jeer at him, and revel in his death. And at the end of the tragic scene at Golgotha, Mary held Him in her arms, the image that would be recreated in the “Pieta”.

The Prayer Cubby

There was a sad dream I had some time last fall, of me wandering around an empty apartment area that only had about five people left in it. In this dream, I discovered a beautiful prayer cubby tucked away somewhere in the parking lot. Inside was what looked like a stained-glass picture of Mother Mary, with numerous candles surrounding the picture.

When I went inside, I suddenly started weeping, and told her about how my loneliness was crushing me again. At that time, it really was.