I Celebrated Someone’s Life on the Anniversary of Trying to End Mine
Last week, I went to a celebration of life on the same day as the sixth anniversary of my suicide attempt.
Oh, the irony.
I wish I could say I had a huge, profound epiphany about the meaning of life and the secret to how to live with purpose, but the truth is, it left me more confused than ever.
Why is it that the people who don’t want to live stay alive, but the people who want to live die?
Why is it that one person can take their hate and anger out on the world and spend their entire lives causing pain to others and live longer than people with huge hearts who are of service to others?
Why do untalented people get hired for jobs because they are related to or friends with someone at the company and gifted people miss out on good opportunities?
Why do some people have loving and supportive parents and some don’t?
Why do some people suffer so much more than others?
If the meaning of life is to love, be loved, and spread the love, then why do we have to work so much of our lives for money and just be subjected to bullshit politics, bureaucracy, and mean, angry people?
What the fuck are we all doing here?
I was driving myself crazy ruminating on why life makes even less sense now than it did six years ago. So, to ground myself, I came up with three things that I learned from my first Hawaiian celebration of life.
1. When you die, the only thing anyone cares about is your integrity.
Nobody gives a shit how much money you made, what your Instagram grid looked like, or even your bad habits.
They care about who you were as a person. That’s it.
Were you kind when there was nothing in it for you? Did you make people feel welcome when everyone else ignored them? Did you show up when someone needed help, even when it wasn’t particularly convenient?
Because when you look at life through that lens, everything else seems really fucking petty. Like the Amazon package that arrived in three days instead of two, the person in front of you who’s taking too long to order coffee, or @KeyboardWarrior69 who left you a mean comment.
That doesn’t mean that we should never get annoyed or frustrated. We’re human beings. Sometimes the person holding up the line really does need to pick a fucking sandwich already.
But how much of our limited time do we spend being irritated, competing, comparing, proving ourselves, and trying to win arguments that won’t matter a year from now, let alone when we’re gone?
I remember Aaron Char because he was kind to me when I was trying to find my place in a community where I didn’t yet feel welcome.
He probably had no idea how much those ordinary moments meant to me because I never had the chance to tell him in person.
You might forget a hundred things you accomplished in your lifetime, but someone else may spend the rest of theirs remembering how you made them feel.
It really is as simple as Bill & Ted’s “Be excellent to each other.”
2. Follow the Aloha
At Aaron’s celebration of life, they were giving away some of his artwork. I took a magnet that says Follow the Aloha.
When I first started to learn how to surf, nobody talked to me. Surfing in Hawaii is territorial, and being a white girl from the mainland, I wasn’t given a warm welcome.
But I was determined to learn anyway. I rented a surfboard locker to store my board at the beach, which was right next to where Aaron worked.
He was one of the first local Hawaiians in the surf community to truly welcome me.
Over time, he became someone I could depend on. He helped me adjust my fin, helped me cut off a lock when I went on vacation for two weeks and forgot my combination, and would always cut off pieces of foam noodle to protect the tail of my board while I stored it.
It was hard to show up every day and try to learn how to surf in an environment that wasn’t immediately welcoming. But Aaron helped me start to see the situation in a different light:
There are people who care about you.
Focus on them.
I think we spend so much of our lives trying to win over the people who don’t particularly like us, don’t understand us, or don’t want us around.
We exhaust ourselves trying to prove that we’re worthy of a place at the table, while overlooking the people who are eagerly pulling out a chair for us.
Aaron never made a big production out of being kind to me. He just was.
Following the Aloha is about recognizing the people who love and accept you, and giving them more of your time, energy, and heart.
3. Home is where the heart is.
I believe that certain locations call to you for a reason.
During the paddle-out at Aaron’s celebration of life, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it.
For anyone unfamiliar, a paddle-out is a Hawaiian ocean memorial tradition where friends and family paddle out on surfboards and canoes, gather in a circle, share blessings and memories, and often release flowers or ashes into the water.
We had paddled far past the break, which was beyond my comfort zone with the sea, but I didn’t feel scared. It felt serene, like the ocean was holding space for us.
And during many moments of the ceremony, I looked around to Diamond Head, the beach, the mountains, and even further out into the sea. And despite everything that hasn’t been easy about living in Hawaii, I had this overwhelming feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Ever since I was a little girl, I have been fascinated with Hawaii. The first time I visited was in 2008, and from that moment, I always knew that I would live here one day.
I couldn’t explain why. I just knew.
And when I eventually moved here in 2018, some people thought I was out of my mind. Let’s face it, everyone thought I was out of my mind.
When you create your own life, it doesn’t have to make sense to everyone else.
You don’t have to live where your family lives, follow the career path everyone expects, get married by a certain age, have children because that’s what people do, or spend your money on the things society says make you successful.
You’re allowed to decide what home means to you.
And maybe the life that feels right to you doesn’t look particularly impressive to anyone else. Who fucking cares? They’re not the ones who have to wake up and live it every day.
Sitting on my surfboard with my legs dangling out there in the ocean, I didn’t suddenly understand why I’d felt drawn to Hawaii for so many years.
I simply realized that I didn’t need to because I had trusted the call of my soul.
Six years ago, I didn’t want to be alive.
And last week, I found myself floating in the ocean with a group of people grieving someone they desperately wished were still here.
I don’t know how to make sense of that.
I don’t know why some people live long lives, and others don’t. I don’t know why some people seem to experience more suffering than they deserve or why kindness doesn’t always get rewarded, and cruelty doesn’t always have consequences.
And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop asking those questions.
But reflecting on Aaron’s Follow the Aloha magnet, I started thinking that maybe I don’t need to figure out the meaning of life to decide what matters in mine.
I can choose to be someone who makes other people feel welcome.
I can choose to give more attention to the people who make my life better instead of worrying about the ones who don’t.
And I can keep building a life that feels like home to me, even when it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.
None of that explains why life can be so heartbreakingly unfair. But it gives me something to live by while I’m here.
I still don’t know what the fuck we’re all doing here. But I do know a little more about how I want to spend my time.
P.S. What if you have everything you’re supposed to want, but you’re still miserable?
I had the corporate career, the six-figure salary, the condo in Hawaii, and the red convertible.
I was successful on paper, but behind the scenes, I was struggling with depression, anxiety, and a lifetime of believing I wasn’t worthy of love.
In this deeply personal video, I’m sharing my suicide attempt, the childhood experiences that shaped my self-worth, what happened when I finally asked for help, and why I believe we desperately need more compassion and less judgment when talking about mental health.
Because having a good job, a nice house, and a life that looks impressive to everyone else doesn’t mean you’re okay.
👉 Watch: I Tried To End My Life: What Hopelessness Feels Like Even If You’re Successful on Paper
With love and a whole lot of glow,
Angie
https://www.innerglowbyangie.com/
I help you rewrite the childhood stories that are keeping Adult You quiet, overworked, and underpaid, so you can say what you fu*king mean, know your worth, and make more money.
Because you deserve to feel excited about your own life.
Through my signature GLOW Method, I combine money story rewriting, identity work, practical money strategy, and real-time action to help women stop playing small, use their voice with confidence, and become the kind of woman who naturally attracts more money, opportunities, visibility, and fulfillment.
I’m the author of Running in Slippers, a raw and vulnerable memoir about my journey from self-loathing and a suicide attempt to self-love and thriving. Life kicked me in the a$$, and, in hindsight, I needed it to.
I have moved from Chicago to Hawaii on my own, jumped out of a helicopter and into the ocean Navy SEAL-style, bungee jumped, skydived, and cliff jumped, yet I am still terrified about allowing myself to be seen.
