I’ve been sitting with this strange, heavy feeling—the kind that doesn’t always announce itself, but lingers.And I keep circling around one question: Did I ever really know what love was? Not the storybook kind. Not the movie montage.But real love. Soft love. Steady love. Because for so long, love felt like something I had to …
It’s been a while since I’ve written. Honestly, the past few weeks have been some of the hardest of my life. In July, I packed up my boys and boarded a plane. We left behind a house, a marriage, and a chapter that had been my entire adult life. It was messy. It was heartbreaking. …
There are moments I wish I could rewind.Not because I did something terrible.But because pain spoke louder than my logic—and I wish I had been heard before I had to raise my voice emotionally. He made a joke in front of my kids.Something about how I used to scare him—but not anymore.It wasn’t said with …
There’s a moment I never saw coming. It didn’t arrive with tears or clarity or some dramatic ending. It came quietly, in between the laundry and the dishes and the pretending I’m okay. It came in the silence—when I read a quote, or remembered something he said—and felt… nothing. Not anger. Not sadness. Not that …
Some days I don’t know if I can do any of this. Not the grieving.Not the parenting.Not the letting go.Not the rebuilding. I sit with these big questions— Why does it seem so easy for him to move on?Why am I still holding the weight of everything while he only carries himself? I try to …
Learning to Welcome Peace Back into My Life There was a time I couldn’t imagine smiling without forcing it.When softness felt foreign, even suspicious.I was sharp edges and stiff shoulders and heavy sighs. But something’s shifting. The other day, I laughed. Like… actually laughed.It caught me off guard. I was celebrating my youngest turning 4, …
By Lena Rose | The Everyday Comeback How do you heal in a house that’s still breaking you? I ask myself that almost every day. It’s not just the walls that hold the pain — it’s the smells, the light at 4pm, the sound of his keys. It’s the hallway where we argued. The couch …
“Not because I’m ready, but because I’m tired of waiting until I feel ready.” — Day One of showing up for myself. This blog begins here.