A quiet place to say the things loss leaves behind. These pieces are about living in the aftermath, holding the memories, and learning to move through days that changed you.
Grief didn’t only hurt. It required management. This essay describes the quiet, ongoing work of holding meaning, maintaining precision, and staying upright when loss exceeds capacity.
When Grief Requires Management Read Post »
Grief didn’t arrive quietly. It occupied my mind, required management, and exhausted my ability to contain myself under sustained visibility. This isn’t a guide or a how-to. It’s a description of how grief behaved when capacity ran out.
Healing doesn’t mean moving on or feeling better. After losing two children, it means learning how to carry grief without collapsing into it — not because the pain has softened, but because there is enough structure to keep going.
What Healing Means to Me Now Read Post »
After loss, privacy is often mistaken for being closed off. This essay explores the difference between intentional containment and emotional shutdown, and why that distinction matters.
The Difference Between Being Private and Being Closed Read Post »
Stepping back is often mistaken for withdrawal. In reality, it’s a quieter way of staying present, choosing smaller rooms, fewer explanations, and conserving what remains.
What Stepping Back Actually Looks Like Read Post »
After loss, people often say things meant to help. I no longer correct them. Not because the words don’t bother me, but because explaining grief costs more than I can afford.
Why I Don’t Correct People Anymore Read Post »
Stability didn’t mean forgetting my loss. It meant learning how to stand again while carrying it — knowing the ground would still be there when the weight returned.
What Stability Feels Like After Loss Read Post »
Grief alters the experience of time. Moments stretch, days blur, and what once felt steady begins to behave differently, not because something is wrong, but because loss reshapes how time is lived.
Time Behaves Differently in Grief Read Post »
After loss, being told things will get “better” can feel confusing or premature. Grief doesn’t move toward improvement so much as adaptation, and meaning takes time to form.
Why “It Gets Better” Isn’t Helpful Read Post »
Continuing after loss isn’t just about surviving. It comes with an ongoing, often invisible cost, one that strength alone doesn’t erase.
The Cost of Continuing Read Post »
