"The writer is doing her best to examine her own consciousness. She is undressing her mind. She is trying not to flinch." Well that line stopped me in my tracks. Bravo, bravo, bravo.
“And where is mine?” hit me in the gut. I think I’m still asking that question. I have this visceral memory of a moment several years ago, sitting on my step in the kitchen, and it was as if I was sitting beside my little girl self, gently explaining that those people weren’t ever coming, but I wouldn’t go away. The grief is overwhelming.
Totally. I remember reading a piece of yours that recalls that very moment on the kitchen step, and I remember resonating with that *deeply*. I know you and I probably share some very big commonalities in our histories. The grief really is overwhelming and learning that it doesn't go away—at least never fully—can be SO hard to accept. *And* showing up for ourselves is changing my life rn. Thanks for reading, Annelise, and for sharing in this with me. ♥️
Krista I hope you never ever ever stop writing.
Thank you, Ashlee. I know you understand how that creeping voice of doubt can come in, so I really appreciate your encouragement to keep going.
Came here to say this. Seriously, you have a gift.
Thank you so much, Bec!
"The writer is doing her best to examine her own consciousness. She is undressing her mind. She is trying not to flinch." Well that line stopped me in my tracks. Bravo, bravo, bravo.
Thank you, Katie. ❤️
Beautiful, friend. You make *this place* beautiful. I really really mean it. ♥️
Thanks, Amy. ♥️
“And where is mine?” hit me in the gut. I think I’m still asking that question. I have this visceral memory of a moment several years ago, sitting on my step in the kitchen, and it was as if I was sitting beside my little girl self, gently explaining that those people weren’t ever coming, but I wouldn’t go away. The grief is overwhelming.
This struck me, too. 🔥 Asking this question reveals so much, and not all of us think to even consider it.
I'm glad that's sticking with you, Shannon! Thank you for reading.
Totally. I remember reading a piece of yours that recalls that very moment on the kitchen step, and I remember resonating with that *deeply*. I know you and I probably share some very big commonalities in our histories. The grief really is overwhelming and learning that it doesn't go away—at least never fully—can be SO hard to accept. *And* showing up for ourselves is changing my life rn. Thanks for reading, Annelise, and for sharing in this with me. ♥️
Okay, Krista. Wow. I'm speechless. <3
Thank you Molly, for taking the time to read and share this with me. 🩷
I have tears in my eyes, Krista. Hope to catch up with you soon. Praying 🫶🏻🫂
Thank you, Bre. Same. <3
Wow the way you pieced this together is amazing 💛
Thank you Kym! I love a good braided essay, and it was fun for me to mix in some different forms :)
Stunning. Thank you for writing, friend. I’ll come back to this one.
Thank you so much, Alyssa!
This is gorgeous, Krista. Much of it resonated deeply with me. So many layers here I need to read it again!!!
Thank you for reading, Megan! I'm so glad that it resonated with you. It's always the best gift to hear that.
Krista, this piece is stunning in so many ways. Just gorgeous. Thank you for your bravery in writing and sharing.♥️
Thank you, Allie, for reading and for this encouragement. So, so kind.
This is beautiful, Krista. I’m so glad you pressed publish.
Thanks, Stacy. Maybe the pieces we're doubting most are the ones that need to go out into the world the most? Just a theory I'm working on. :)
I think you're right.
This post is absolutely fantastic.
Thank you, Natalie!
Whoosh. Will I be reading this again? (And again?) Yes. You just disrupted my afternoon in the best of ways.
Whew, thank you Shannon. "Disrupted" feels like the perfect word tbh. ♥️
I'm feeling the same. Everything about this assaulted me in the very best way. Grateful for these words.
Karen, thank you so much! "Assaulted me in the very best way"—such an apt way of putting it, and a huge compliment. Thanks for reading. :)