I used to think love meant never leaving your side. That loyalty meant carrying both of us when you couldn’t. But somewhere in the weight of grief and silence, I lost myself. Maybe love now looks like truth, even when it breaks your heart.
We can't change the past, but we can change what it means. A reflection on how understanding, like physics, can reshape the story of what was,
Therapy isn’t a warm cup of tea and a cozy blanket. It’s more like picking up the rug you’ve been sweeping things under for decades, only to find the dust is heavier than you imagined. This morning, I sat with my therapist talking about “emotional childhood neglect.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How the world expects you to survive the unimaginable and return to it like nothing happened. How your child can die, and people just… forget. They expect you to move on. To be “better.” To show up the way you used to, like you’
It’s been creeping in slowly, this feeling that I’ve drifted from my son. I don’t feel him like I used to. And saying that out loud feels like betrayal. In the beginning, he was everywhere. In the songs that came on at the perfect time. In the
I've spent years being the helper. Today I admitted out loud: I want to be helped too.
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make sure everyone else is okay. I didn’t always notice it in the moment; it’s just something I did. I’d downplay my feelings, hold my tongue, or walk on eggshells if it meant keeping the peace. I’d
It’s been about a month since I last wrote here. This is a pattern for me. I start something with gusto, then it fizzles out. When I don’t see instant “success,” I lose interest. But writing is something I’ve always loved. I don’t want to give
As Mother’s Day approaches, I can’t help but think… why did it have to be my child? Why did my son have to die? While I’m deeply grateful I got to be his mom, the pain is, at times, unbearable. I miss him so much. I want
[Note to readers:] This post is a follow-up to Here It Comes and reflects on the emotional and physical toll of 4/28. It contains references to grief, family conflict, and illness. Please take care while reading. I made it through 4/28. It wasn’t easy. This year has
The day is coming. 4/28. The day that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I often think of the days leading up. How did I not see it coming? What could I have done differently? Why my baby boy? The questions are endless. And this year
I'm not entirely sure who I am anymore. Maybe that's why I'm here. The basics? I'm 34. A mother of two–one living, one in heaven. A separated wife. Someone struggling with her career, trying to find purpose in the rubble my