The slow, imperfect work of stitching a life back together. Notes on growth, rest, and the small mercies of surviving.
grief
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.
child loss
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’
grief
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
healing
I've spent years being the helper. Today I admitted out loud: I want to be helped too.
healing
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
motherhood
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
child loss
[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
child loss
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
child loss
This space was born from grief–deep, life-altering, world-splitting grief. In 2022, my son died. And everything I thought I knew about life, love, purpose, and time unraveled in the quiet afterward. Quiet Ground is not a place of answers. It's not polished or packaged. It's