” Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,…… Continue reading To be kind to my sad self
My grief is a mean girl. She was born out of hurt, anger, and sadness and brings toxicity to everyday activities. She comes out with a misconstrued comment when you think that you’re doing ok. She cuts you with her double meanings and reminders that you won’t be able to sit at the cool kids’…… Continue reading My grief is a real b.
At four and a half months most moms would be looking for a break. Just a five minute break so they could shower, or take a nap, or remember who they were before they became a mom. Here, all I have are breaks. My hands are empty, I have no one to hold. No one…… Continue reading I don’t know what to do with my hands…
What you do not know is that when I post my new recipe or weekend outing is that I am just filling the hours. That if I can fill my hours, I can stop obsessing on how I thought I would be spending my time and by posting, I can pretend I’m still normal. What…… Continue reading What you do not know
“I don’t have a name. I don’t know what to do. The only thing I know for certain is that I must begin to heal. Just like every time my life was re-created, I had to begin restoring the foundered part of my being: the lost relationships, the familiarity of a neighborhood, the sense of…… Continue reading To heal