On Birthdays + Grief

tomorrow i turn 37. birthdays are a big deal to me. i like being celebrated and feeling loved… special. but this year’s birthday hangs in a cloud of grief that i know cannot be shaken loose. i know it will shift with time. and despite my trying to rush beyond the pain, it is still here. 

i’ve been feeling extremely lonely lately. being single tends to do that for me. i’ve learned to place romantic relationships on a pedestal and without one, i feel *so* alone. 

now, i have wonderful friends and community. and the wise part of my brain recognizes that. and i feel so fortunate to be loved by several lovely humans. 

yet the weight of my singleness aches in my bones this year. 

yearning, still, months later, for a man who doesn’t want to be with me. 

sitting with the grief of last year’s ending of my marriage to my best friend. 

shame for this self-induced loneliness due to cutting ties with my family. 

and years of utilizing self-isolation as a (not always healthy) coping mechanism. 

i find myself feeling like i often do around the holidays. like i’m meant to be excited, joy-filled, happy. 

yet those states have been harder and harder for me to reach lately. 

some friends recently asked how i wanted to spend my birthday. and we, somewhat jokingly, landed on howling at the moon in the middle of the woods. and maybe that’s what would be serve me this year. 

i’m finding that birthdays and aging are less about a big party with people who barely know me… the real me. but instead choosing to surround myself with friends and (chosen) family who can support and love me, no matter my emotional state. and lord, there are so many!

if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. thank you for being here. thank you for seeing me.  thank you, thank you, thank you. 

here’s to 37. and learning to love myself, partnered or not. lonely or not. happy or not. grieving or not. 

Erasing Me

i hate that i even think about it

if your hands grazed her hips yet

if her lips taste as sweet as mine

sharing your energy with someone new 

erasing me bit by bit

with each new kiss

”Erasing Me”
July 2024

Grieving a Body in Pain

i’ve had widespread chronic pain since 2009. 

it ebbs + flows. there are seasons where i almost forget its existence. but it inevitably returns. 

i shame myself for doing the “wrong” things or not doing enough of the “right” ones. 

there’s a part of me that’s convinced that if i just try harder, do more - the pain will go away. 

or if i could just heal all my emotional pains, the physical pains would dissipate too. 

i carry a heavy burden of shame because i’m trauma informed + have so many somatic tools. and therefore, i “should” be able to fix myself. i “should” know better. 

but what if this isn’t something to fix? what if i don’t need to hold the blame for this pain?

how would it feel to grieve the seemingly impossible dream of having a fully abled, pain-free body? 

i share this not for your pity or sympathy. but i hope my story helps others in pain. 

it’s easy to believe that your pain is your fault. and if you could just try one more thing or show up fuller, the pain will die. 

but this is your - and my - permission slip to just be. be angry with your body that has failed you. be deeply upset by the setbacks + limitations. allow yourself to grieve being in *this* body. without the spiritual bypassing of having to see the silver lining or be grateful for your body’s wisdom. 

today, move + feel. simply be with what is.

Grief Stays

time ticks by
people stop asking, stop checking in
life carries on
but grief,
grief stays

he tickles at your throat
stings behind your eyes
subtle reminders of loss
memories of what could have been

a shocking pain
that cuts so deep -
your inhale catches

he rises with the sun
some days
lingers with the falling night
on others

often quiet
rarely screaming
he just wants your attention

wants you to not forget
the lessons
the heartache
the love that once was

so let him in
pour him a cup of tea
embrace his sorrows
let him be