Healing and Connection

I just finished re-reading my post “I’m Sorry,” and now I’m sitting here crying. A part of me desperately wishes I could rewind time. And another part of me knows I had to learn these lessons the way I did: in some shape, some form, some sequence I never would’ve chosen but somehow still needed. And I got to learn them with the most kind-hearted, tender person I have ever met. I am grateful for that. For growing alongside her. For experiencing a level of care that reshaped me

I think it’s important to talk about my part in the dynamic with my first therapist. I’m not sure I fully have the words to describe everything, but I’m going to try my best. I had never in my life been cared for the way she cared for me. I’d never felt nurtured before. Seen. Heard. Understood in the way she managed to understand me. I had never trusted anyone enough to share my story either. Honestly, I didn’t think my story mattered enough to tell. My body had absolutely no

It’s strange how two experiences can both hurt you and still feel nothing alike in your body. I’ve been thinking about that, the difference between a wound and a trauma. The difference between someone who harms you and owns it, and someone who harms you and then lies about it to protect themselves. My first therapist made mistakes. I’m not going to sugarcoat that. Things happened that left me with pain I still carry, and probably more trauma than either of us knew how to hold

I’m kind of just out of it today. And I’m frustrated. I have therapy, and, as usual, I’m blank. No thoughts. No brain cells. Just this quiet heaviness that makes me want to curl up and cry. I envy the people who can walk into therapy and just… talk. The ones who can lay everything out, or at least recap their week without freezing. And maybe envy isn’t the right word, because there’s no bitterness in it. It’s more of a longing. A small ache. Something in me wishing I could do

You want to know what brought me back into myself today? A poem. A beautifully accurate poem.

I’ve been in my head about the termination I went through this year (the one that happened by email), and every time I try to write about it, I end up drowning in shame and deleting everything. Not just shame, honestly. It’s also this feeling that my thoughts start spilling out in ways that feel unaligned with who I am. Even when everything I type is true, it feels mean, and it feels like I’m shit-talking, and that’s just not something I like to do. I keep telling myself I’ll

I sometimes feel like different people feeling different grief. Idk how to explain it. Like one second I’m saying “my feelings move” and the next I’m drowning in grief again. Sometimes it’s so painful I really can’t take a breath in. When termination first happened, I blocked the practice on Instagram because I knew seeing her would be too difficult. But about five months ago I unblocked them and thought I would probably be okay, and I guess I’m not as okay as I thought I cou

When my grief for L hits, it’s always different. Sometimes it’s fleeting. Sometimes it’s this softness that feels like a pause in my day… a moment where I can acknowledge how much she means to me and still keep moving. And then there are days like today, when I wake up crying for hours because the part of me that misses her is just more active. It hurts, but it’s not the kind of pain that makes me want to hide. It’s the kind of pain that reminds me how much she matters to me.

I was reflecting on how far I’ve come in being able to feel and name sensations in my body. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not something I have access to every day, but from where I started, I’m definitely at a completely different level. Anyway, as I was reflecting, remembering how much shame I had around trying to feel my body made me want to talk about it, to normalize the feelings that can come up when you’re not used to feeling your body. At the beginning, I couldn’t feel anyt

This whole day has been good. I don’t know if you can feel the weight of that sentence but I need you to. I need you to understand that this is rare for me. And I can just hear the therapist question: “What was different about today than the other days?” Ma’am, I don’t know. I woke up like this. I drank a peppermint bark coffee? Are you telling me I can ditch the mental health meds for peppermint bark coffee? That will solve all my problems? This whole time? lol That line, I

Last night my two year old niece slept over. Sometime in the middle of the night, she started crying, so I put her in bed next to me. When I woke up, she was cuddled against me. It was one of those moments that makes you pause. The kind that feels too simple to describe but still manages to fill your chest. This morning all she could talk about was wanting her nails painted. Lucky for her, her uncle also enjoys a good nail color collection. She picked purple, my favorite shad

Tonight I’m feeling grateful for my best friend, Everett. He knows exactly what’s going on with me, and the second I said I didn’t want to talk about it, we slipped right back into our usual goofy rhythm… no awkwardness, no heaviness. No undertone of worry, because we have a sense of trust woven into our friendship. We know if the other person needs support we will say it. We talked for hours like we always do, laughing about nothing and everything. It’s rare to have someone

Today has been really good. My brain has been quiet. When that happens, I try to do a few things…really soak it in, and remind myself that the bad days aren’t my fault. Because I know when those days come, they’ll feel like my fault. Saying it to myself now, when things feel still, helps me remember later when the noise returns. I got more housework done than I expected, and afterward, I had one of the best naps of my life. Now my wife is napping, and I snuck off to the store

I want to be transparent about the anger I feel and the emotions that come with it. But I also don’t want to step outside of my values in the process. Sometimes when I’m mad, I catch myself saying things that are shaped by my pain…things that reflect how someone feels to me in this moment, not necessarily who they are as a whole person. My perspective might be real, but it’s still just that — a perspective. I don’t like shit-talking. I don’t like bending someone’s image. I kn

The good news is that after an intense episode of emotions, I’m usually back to my baseline pretty quickly. The not-so-good news is that when they hit, they hit hard. I don’t know if that’s just how I process emotions or if it’s because I’m so good at ignoring them until they flood me. You’d think I’d be good at processing with how often I feel things… but baby, they’re all floods, and I’m just on a little boogie board trying to stay afloat. When my therapist (god, that still

I’m just getting back from helping my wife at her work. She works at an assisted living facility, and tonight they were handing out candy to kids and making caramel apples. I usually stay home for stuff like that, but I’ve been trying to get out of the house more, so I went and helped. It was nice to see all the smiles. I met with my new therapist for the first time today, via telehealth. I was always adamant that I never wanted to do telehealth long-term, but honestly, this

Watching the community come together when our government has failed them and still finding a way to make sure people are fed has filled my heart with so much warmth. There’s something about seeing people show up for each other that just gets to me. It’s a kind of care that reminds me of what we’re capable of when compassion leads the way. My heart still hurts for the people impacted, though. Even with all the help being offered, I know the stress of it all doesn’t just disapp

I came across a reel that asked: Would you date you? For those who just want the short version, the answer is no … I wouldn’t. For those who want the deeper look, get cozy and keep reading. I have some good qualities in me, but none of them are consistent. So any good quality I have gets watered down by the simple fact that I never know when I’ll actually be showing up as that version of myself. This isn’t a self-deprecating post. It’s a realistic one. On my good days, I thin

Okay folks, last night was a fucking winner. I slept. I fuckingggggg slept. You ever wake up and feel like the world just cracked open and let some sunlight back in? That’s me today. I wish I could bottle this energy and let you feel it. The way the fresh air whipped through my car windows on the drive to work, the way it felt alive again instead of heavy. Sure, I still needed coffee (let’s be honest, that’ll never change), but damn…what a difference a full night of rest make

I never thought I’d want to move away from the place I was born and raised, but the older I get, the more I crave quiet. A place where queerness isn’t hidden, just lived. I want to find a small, soft community to settle into. Where we plant flowers together and read books, drink coffee and tea as the sun rises, and sip hot chocolate while watching fireflies dance through the evening air. Where laughter is abundant, poetry is shared freely, and the bonds between us stretch dee