By Bella Rainey

Writing about your own book is always a humbling experience, and it is also required when you write a book. 

Hey friends, my name is Bella Rainey. You may recognize me from KCtoday, but if not, it’s so nice to meet you. Outside of writing for KCtoday (or here for Catcall), I have a tendency to basically never stop writing. Whether it is a notes app entry or a full novel, I seem to never run out of words to say. 

That brings me to the aforementioned novel. Let’s rewind the tapes. 

On May 26, 2021, I lost my father to suicide. He was an alcoholic, a narcissist, bipolar, but most importantly and notably, he was my dad. He was Phil Rainey. 

Losing him is by far the most painful and miserable experience of my life—but it also has brought me so much. Specifically, the experience of processing my relationship with him and my complex/guilty grief through the writing of my debut book The First Year. 

The First Year is a collection of thoughts and moments from the first 365 days of my life without my dad. When my dad died, I felt like I was on an island socially. Most folks don’t like to talk about grief and death, rightfully so, but that doesn’t do much good for the many of us who need to talk about it. 

I found that there were no resources for me. Where was I supposed to turn to have someone hear me and not tell me how to grieve? Who could ever relate? Turns out, a lot more people than I thought. 

It’s important to note that I did not begin writing a book when my dad died. Instead, I was just writing for the sake of getting through each day. It was more than a form of therapy, it was a means of survival. I needed somewhere to brain dump and feel zero guilt about possibly trauma dumping on someone. 

About a month into doing this, I decided to start sharing some of my writing on Instagram. I did this partially because I felt like it would be a good way to make sure my friends knew where I was at emotionally. Mostly, because I had a desire to help people. When my dad died, I was on an island. There aren’t a lot of options for 20-year-old girls with dead dads, so I tried my best to be one. 

Very quickly I started receiving positive feedback about sharing these vulnerable tidbits and decided I should look into other avenues to share for folks who may need it. 

Grief is fluid and inconsistent all at the same time, so my book attempts to be a reflection of that.

That’s how I landed on a book. From there, my book sort of wrote itself. From start to finish, it is structured like this: Notes app entry, dive into that specific entry, and usually a follow-up about that moment of grief on a larger scale. The voice changes from 20-year-old Bella experiencing grief for the first time, to 21-year-old Bella working through it, to 22-year-old Bella reflecting on it. 

My book is raw. The notes app entries have no edits, so some of them include poor grammar + spelling mistakes—but that is sort of the entire point. I want each reader to feel like they’re having a conversation with all of those versions of past Bella. I want to avoid preach-y commentary about how someone is supposed to handle grief. Instead, my goal was to show you how I dealt with mine and how frequently my coping mechanisms and general feelings changed on a day-to-day basis. Grief is fluid and inconsistent all at the same time, so my book attempts to be a reflection of that. 

My dad would be very proud of me. Even though many parts of this book include me being angry at him, and spilling a lot of his beans from the last few decades, I know he would have loved it. 

Grieving a rocky relationship is unlike any other. I am grateful to have the courage, support, knowledge, and privilege to share my experience. My experience is not definitive, it is not all-knowing, it just is. 

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