There’s a grief I’ve been walking with,
one I didn’t know how to name for a long time.
It isn’t about losing a person or a place,
but losing myself to the roles I had to play…
to trauma, to betrayal, to silence.
I’ve written something tender and raw,
for anyone who’s ever buried parts of themselves just to stay safe.
For the women who've felt erased by duty, performance, or survival.
This is not just healing.
It’s homecoming.
It’s resurrection.
🕊 Read: “The Grief of Identity: Mourning the Self We Lost to Survive”
And if you’re ready for deeper support, I’d love to welcome you into my next Hallowed Gathering.
Amy
Responses