a letter to the warrior women who saved me.

The past month has been full of so much loss, so much heartache, and so much grief. It has been floodgates opening, screaming silence and unanswered questions; it has been picking myself up only to fall down all over again.

It has been questioning and clawing, reaching and grasping, it has been hopeless and terrifying and raw and confusing.

It has been death and rebirth, loss and awakening.

It has been pain and redemption.

So much has happened over the past month and I am sure that as I begin to peel back the layers of truth I’ve discovered, I will find the words to share them with you.

But this post today isn’t about me.

This is a sincere and heart-ripped-open thank you to my army, to my tribe.

To the people who have surrounded me and held me when I was completely falling apart. To the friends who showed up with wine and chocolate and hugs and pancakes.

To all of the eyes that cried the same tears I was crying when I just needed to know I wasn’t alone.

To the mother who fiercely protected her young, showed up without me asking, and housed my wedding dress without ever asking the questions that I still haven’t found the strength to answer yet.

To the CPR instructor who followed me to my car to ask if he could put his hands on my shoulders and pray for me.

To the friend’s mother who showed up with a stick of butter and cinnamon swirl bread because she knew I wasn’t eating.

This is an ode to the friends who extended their trips and called in sick to work, to the friends who changed the dates to come after the dust had settled because they knew that the rest of the world would spin on even when mine had completely stopped.

To the friends who showed up on my doorstep so I didn’t have to sleep alone, to the cousin in New York who has loved me without wavering from thousands of miles away .

To the humbling readers and warrior women who took time out of their days and lives to write me and tell me my voice matters.
To tell me they are here.

To all of the readers who reached out to tell me they missed me while I was gone.
That they are happy I’m back. To the letters and messages I received that changed my mood and my day and my life without asking for anything in return.
To all of my Take Your Heart family, most of which I’ve never even been able to meet in person, for giving me a safe haven to share and grow and heal and crumble.
For loving me even though I am a pile of broken pieces.
For helping me realize that even broken, I am more of myself than I’ve ever been before.

This is to the women who wouldn’t have given me a choice to not get through this.
The fire breathing goddesses who would have burned my house down to rid my walls of the ghosts and the memories if I would have just said the word.
The friends who came over to help me move picture frames and centerpieces to the garage.
The friends who promised they’d come back when I was ready to open the boxes.
To all of the friends who help me remember that there are still people who keep their promises.
This is a thank you to the countless prayers I couldn’t help but feel in my heart.
This is a warm hug to all of the arms that surrounded me when I couldn’t stand on my own.

This is a hallelujah to my tribe—an offering of thanks to my army.

I am here.

I am back.

And, thanks to all of you, I am ready to turn this pain into a masterpiece.

2 thoughts on “a letter to the warrior women who saved me.

  1. You are a true warrior woman and I have no doubt you will conquer every challenge life throws you. I love you now and always.

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