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The Real kind of love

Last year, when I was just starting to pull myself up out of grief from my best friend passing, we got the call that my nephew had died by suicide. It instantly felt like someone took a machete and cut me in two. The ground beneath me was gone. I was floating above myself as I did all the human things I was supposed to, but there was nothing left inside me. I had no “right” words anymore. I had no glue to hold anyone else together, which was what I had done since birth to get through hard things. I constantly felt like I was letting people down, but nothing I could say or do could connect me to the holy hell was happening. I actually thought it was all my fault, like I was somehow a curse. It sounds absurd now, but it was what I felt. When there is a lack of control, it becomes anxiety’s best friend.

Then my mind drifted into a daze, as if all survival skills had kicked in to protect what was left of me. So I laid in bed for weeks. months. Slowly regenerating my will to live. My community was with me every step. Picking me up, wiping tears, whisking me off to places to set free my 3 sets of ashes, or just laying with me to try and reset my once love filled soul. They would listen tenderly and reassure me when my acute anxiety took over. One day in November 2020 I made this sign. It was a reminder, a gentle one(this was the second edition.. the first just said “stop acting like it’s happening to you! It’s just happening!!”.. which didn’t work for obvious reasons..even in its truth). This sign helped me to do basic things, like shower for one.

As 2021 came in with her hopeful arms, I wrapped them around me. I got up and looked around. My two men stood smiling with love in their eyes. Proud not because I had conquered death, but because I made it through grief. I slowly let love in and made a pact to pursue my life again.

Within weeks, my life was changing. I was in school, planning a show and being recruited for jobs that were far beyond anything I had ever done for in my past. Maybe that was because I had no fear in failing anymore, because what’s there to fear when you’ve seen the bottom of grief??

As soon as I let go, the love and opportunity came in.

I guess what I wanted to say in my long ramble, what I need to say is in those dark moments, let the love in. The real kind. The self love kind. The kind where you embrace your grief with the utmost tenderness. You are not obligated to save or conquer the world, nor does anyone expect that. YOU matter when you are hurting.

In those dark and tender moments, we can become reborn. I have more colors in my hue, more sparkle from experience and a hell of a lot of less f*** to give about things that truly don’t matter.

Also COVID. What a trick it plays with its constant solitude. It’s a liar, friends. Even in your solitude-


I am so very thankful for my tribe, even the ones who are cheering me on from the sky. 2020 was a journey to mourn their loss. 2021 is a journey about honoring their life.❤️

Let’s DO THIS!

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