Because sometimes, the pen was the only thing I had left.
Writing; My Lifeline
There are times when words are the only way through.
Not polished, pretty words; but the raw, scribbled, shaky ones.
The midnight confessions.
The desperate questions.
The “I miss you” and the “I don’t know how to do this” and the “Please just come back.”
Writing became my lifeline after losing Kahlia.
Not because it healed me, grief doesn’t work like that.
But because it gave shape to the shapeless.
It gave voice to the parts of me I thought might disappear.
This space is where that writing now lives.
Not all of it. Not every entry. But enough to show what it means to survive by putting one word after another, even when you don’t know what the sentence is becoming.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
— Maya Angelou
What You’ll Find Here:
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Journaling Through Grief
Gentle invitations for the hardest days.
Grief doesn’t follow rules, and neither does journaling.
Here you’ll find prompts, reflections, and space to write honestly, messily, and in your own time.To support this, I’ve created a free downloadable grief journal.
You can print it, fold it, write all over it: use it however you need.It includes:
Soft writing prompts
Blank pages to let it all out
Simple rituals and quiet reflections
Quotes that don’t try to fix; just witness
“Journaling gave my grief somewhere to land when it had nowhere else to go.”
[Download the Journal]
(No sign-up needed. Just take what you need.)
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The Unsent Letters
Some things still need to be said.
This is where you can write a letter to someone you’ve lost, the things you didn’t get to say, the moments still stuck in your chest.
It might be one sentence. It might be ten pages.
There’s no right way to speak your grief.You choose what happens next:
Save it privately
Share it anonymously with others who are grieving
Burn it (delete it) for symbolic release
You can return as often as you need.
No pressure. No rules. Just truth.Whether it’s rage, longing, love, guilt, or silence; this space can hold it.
“There’s something holy in telling the truth, especially when no one else hears it but you.”
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The Blog
Reflections, journal entries, and survival notes.
This is where I share my writing, the real stuff.
Raw moments. Memories. Ideas I’m still working through.
It’s not a tidy narrative. It’s just how it’s been for me.Inside you’ll find:
Journal entries from my first year after Kahlia’s death
Reflections on memory, writing, identity, and survival
Honest pieces that don’t promise healing, but hold space for feeling
Some entries are sharp, some soft.
But every one of them is written from the middle of it.“I don’t share this as advice. Just as proof that it’s possible to keep going.”
You don’t have to start at the beginning.
Just start where the words want to come.