KRISTA. I don’t know how I can possibly write out a meaningful comment—my heart is too wrenched. I felt the adrenaline and despair and hope…all of it. I’m undone. I think this piece belongs on the front page of every newspaper and magazine. I wish I had a bigger audience not for my sake but because I want everyone I know (and everyone I don’t) to read this. You’re doing important work for yourself and for your daughter. I’m so glad you shared these words. ❤️
Yes. I have been here. The grief is good work. Make the cookies. I have a vivid memory of sitting on the step in our kitchen one day, and it was as if my younger self was right beside me. I remember having that internal conversation, "They're not coming. But I'm here." And so you grieve and grieve for the ones who should have stayed but didn't. And you turn around and face the one in the mirror who did stay, and you're brave enough to open the door to the ones who want to stay. Keep going.
Yes. "And you're brave enough to open the door to the ones who want to stay." I know you get it...thank you for sharing your own journey with this crazy healing process. <3
I am just a stranger from the internet, but I needed you to know that I read this essay almost a year ago and it has impacted me more than you will ever know. I think about this piece at least once a week as my ears ring from the screams of my deeply-feeling child. I think of it when the grief bubbles up so high that it clouds my vision and spills into my marriage. I think of it when adrenaline feels like the only way to come back to my body.
I am taking the “Ignite” class by Ashlee Gadd next week. She asked us to bring an essay that has profoundly impacted us and this is the first essay that popped into my head, without question.
Thank you, Krista, for writing something so raw, so relatable, so profound. And thank you for continuing to take the risk of putting your words out in the world — the impact is immeasurable.
Mary, this is so incredibly kind. It warms my heart to know that my words here resonated with someone so deeply and could bring some sense of feeling “seen”. Having a deeply-feeling child while also being a deeply-feeling parent is *not* for the faint of heart, and you are not alone!
I am so excited for you to take Ashlee’s “Ignite” class…I’m positive you will glean so much wisdom. What an honor for me to hear that you’ll be bringing my words.
Thank you for sharing, Mary. It’s stories like yours that make me want to keep showing up to the page!
KRISTA! this! THIS! I felt myself in this essay. In the currency or adrenaline. In the nausea and fatigue of staying with a child who thinks they want you gone. Of finally being held. Thank you for writing this!
Krista, this is gorgeous. Stunning. You have made something so beautiful with your grief. I LOVE it all, but especially the end -- showing up and being there for YOURSELF. so so so powerful.
WOW. Krista, this was breathtaking. I resonate so deeply with the way you describe your childhood and also with parenting deep-feeling children. This piece is going to stick with me. Thank you.♥️
Full body chills--I want to compliment your writing, but really, I just want to say, I see you and your humanity is so beautiful.
I too have been writing about grief this month and wrestling with it...the idea of giving myself something to do with it--maybe this is why I love to bake? Maybe, what I thought was a habit of procrastination is actually a need to nourish myself with something tangible? Wow, this piece could be an outline for a book, a memoir? I will be reading it again.
Ashley, thank you for these kind words. ❤️ Sometimes (most times?) the things we do and the things we spend time making have reasons that are unknown to us. I love that you’ve been wrestling with this too. There’s so much shared humanity in grief.
Krista this is vulnerable and honest and visceral and just absolutely beautiful. What an honor to read when someone puts this much of themselves into such gorgeous words. Thank you, friend.
Katie, that's exactly how I feel about your writing, too. Thanks for sharing this with me today, and for putting yourself out there with your words, also.
I wish I had something meaningful to say. I don’t, but I couldn’t *not* comment. I held my breath, I cried, your beautiful writing took me on a journey. Thank you for that ❤️. (Also, when life gets hard, I make chocolate pudding. My own version of a grief cookie.)
Thanks for being willing to enter into that journey. It's a really big gift for me. (Also, I feel like I need to start a thread for all the different recipes we all make when we're grieving. It's giving Midwest comfort food vibes and I'm here for it.)
Krista. My goodness. I welled up with tears. My oldest child is the one with the deep emotions and I have struggled and struggled. But I am the same. I am learning that it was never okay to be weak in my house, and that runs deep. Thanks for putting words to this.
Something that has really helped is Circle of Security, which was explained in a book called Raising a Secure Child by Hoffman, Cooper & Powell. For years it was a group program based on attachment research and principals, and then they wrote a book for everyone. It's a bit dense but it really gives a simple framework for what you're talking about, like the ideas of shark music are mind blowing.
I've heard of Circle of Security! Yes! The diagram of it is frozen in my mind. I think I actually read that same book. ^ I wish I could chat with you in person about this, Bec--I nerd out about this kind of stuff and I know you do too!
KRISTA. I don’t know how I can possibly write out a meaningful comment—my heart is too wrenched. I felt the adrenaline and despair and hope…all of it. I’m undone. I think this piece belongs on the front page of every newspaper and magazine. I wish I had a bigger audience not for my sake but because I want everyone I know (and everyone I don’t) to read this. You’re doing important work for yourself and for your daughter. I’m so glad you shared these words. ❤️
Laura, this is *incredibly* kind. Wow. Just feeling really blown away by your encouragement. Thank you, thank you, friend.
Yes. I have been here. The grief is good work. Make the cookies. I have a vivid memory of sitting on the step in our kitchen one day, and it was as if my younger self was right beside me. I remember having that internal conversation, "They're not coming. But I'm here." And so you grieve and grieve for the ones who should have stayed but didn't. And you turn around and face the one in the mirror who did stay, and you're brave enough to open the door to the ones who want to stay. Keep going.
Yes. "And you're brave enough to open the door to the ones who want to stay." I know you get it...thank you for sharing your own journey with this crazy healing process. <3
Krista,
I am just a stranger from the internet, but I needed you to know that I read this essay almost a year ago and it has impacted me more than you will ever know. I think about this piece at least once a week as my ears ring from the screams of my deeply-feeling child. I think of it when the grief bubbles up so high that it clouds my vision and spills into my marriage. I think of it when adrenaline feels like the only way to come back to my body.
I am taking the “Ignite” class by Ashlee Gadd next week. She asked us to bring an essay that has profoundly impacted us and this is the first essay that popped into my head, without question.
Thank you, Krista, for writing something so raw, so relatable, so profound. And thank you for continuing to take the risk of putting your words out in the world — the impact is immeasurable.
Mary, this is so incredibly kind. It warms my heart to know that my words here resonated with someone so deeply and could bring some sense of feeling “seen”. Having a deeply-feeling child while also being a deeply-feeling parent is *not* for the faint of heart, and you are not alone!
I am so excited for you to take Ashlee’s “Ignite” class…I’m positive you will glean so much wisdom. What an honor for me to hear that you’ll be bringing my words.
Thank you for sharing, Mary. It’s stories like yours that make me want to keep showing up to the page!
KRISTA! this! THIS! I felt myself in this essay. In the currency or adrenaline. In the nausea and fatigue of staying with a child who thinks they want you gone. Of finally being held. Thank you for writing this!
Oh wow what an essay. I was in tears after the first part. Your writing is incredible. Thank you
Thank YOU, Nelly. So honored that these words could shake something loose in you. Thanks for reading.
Krista, this is gorgeous. Stunning. You have made something so beautiful with your grief. I LOVE it all, but especially the end -- showing up and being there for YOURSELF. so so so powerful.
This is very high praise coming from you Sonya. I’m so touched. 😭❤️ Thank you.
Wow, wow, wow. Stunning and heart wrenching. And so relatable. ❤️
WOW. Krista, this was breathtaking. I resonate so deeply with the way you describe your childhood and also with parenting deep-feeling children. This piece is going to stick with me. Thank you.♥️
Allie, I’m so touched by your words here. Thank you for sharing this with me! May we all keep using our words to help each other feel less alone. ❤️
Full body chills--I want to compliment your writing, but really, I just want to say, I see you and your humanity is so beautiful.
I too have been writing about grief this month and wrestling with it...the idea of giving myself something to do with it--maybe this is why I love to bake? Maybe, what I thought was a habit of procrastination is actually a need to nourish myself with something tangible? Wow, this piece could be an outline for a book, a memoir? I will be reading it again.
Ashley, thank you for these kind words. ❤️ Sometimes (most times?) the things we do and the things we spend time making have reasons that are unknown to us. I love that you’ve been wrestling with this too. There’s so much shared humanity in grief.
This took my breath away. Thank you so much for baring your soul in this way.
Krista this is vulnerable and honest and visceral and just absolutely beautiful. What an honor to read when someone puts this much of themselves into such gorgeous words. Thank you, friend.
Katie, that's exactly how I feel about your writing, too. Thanks for sharing this with me today, and for putting yourself out there with your words, also.
I wish I had something meaningful to say. I don’t, but I couldn’t *not* comment. I held my breath, I cried, your beautiful writing took me on a journey. Thank you for that ❤️. (Also, when life gets hard, I make chocolate pudding. My own version of a grief cookie.)
Thanks for being willing to enter into that journey. It's a really big gift for me. (Also, I feel like I need to start a thread for all the different recipes we all make when we're grieving. It's giving Midwest comfort food vibes and I'm here for it.)
So many stunning lines to cling to. Thank you for your vulnerability.
Krista. My goodness. I welled up with tears. My oldest child is the one with the deep emotions and I have struggled and struggled. But I am the same. I am learning that it was never okay to be weak in my house, and that runs deep. Thanks for putting words to this.
Yes, yes, yes. I understand this so much, Bec. I'm glad my words could help you feel even the tiniest bit seen. Thanks for sharing this, friend.
Something that has really helped is Circle of Security, which was explained in a book called Raising a Secure Child by Hoffman, Cooper & Powell. For years it was a group program based on attachment research and principals, and then they wrote a book for everyone. It's a bit dense but it really gives a simple framework for what you're talking about, like the ideas of shark music are mind blowing.
I've heard of Circle of Security! Yes! The diagram of it is frozen in my mind. I think I actually read that same book. ^ I wish I could chat with you in person about this, Bec--I nerd out about this kind of stuff and I know you do too!
Hahah yes the feeling is mutual!! I am 100% nerd there with you.
Beautiful!
“I want to remember what it is to feed myself something besides despair.”
Yes. This is beautiful, Krista.