Yes, my friend, I too am tired. I too am afraid. And I too am struggling. It’s an insane world out there. Thank you for speaking the truth of it all. I love you for it. Xoxo
I don't want my friends to be struggling, but there is some kind of comfort in knowing we're not alone, right? I'm grateful you're here in it with me. XO
Exhausted. The mental and emotional side of being a writer requires muscles I can’t seem to keep flexed. But we’re writers. At the core, there’s nothing else we’d rather be. We just need trust funds. I guess.
If I ever find myself with a trust fund, I will share it with all my writer friends. But no such trust fund currently exists, so we might be out of luck. <3
" Try to keep your ugly jealousy at bay when others achieve the dreams you’ve been chasing for four decades now." This is one of my deepest feelings--and I know it comes from scarcity, not abundance. And also: The feeling of letting go of the adult children who are fine on their own, who are figuring it out, even if they are miles or continents away. Thank you for writing your truth. <3
Oh, Julia, jealousy is my Achilles, and I hate that part of me. It's ugly and useless, and I wish I could let it go. But I grew up feeling like I didn't have enough of so much that I wanted and needed, and it's rooted itself deep in my bones. Yuck. XO
Thanks for keeping it real. I have never felt as vulnerable as I did when recovering from surgery— not just physically, but existentially. I felt like I’d been processed, spit out, then forgotten. And that was in a best case scenario. I hate that you are feeling raw from the cruelty we are swimming in. You are brave to feel it, name it, share it. Wishing you solace from pain, fear, and a home in a safe and welcoming place like the one you have created here.
Thank you so much, Emily. I’m glad you feel safe here. And I’m so sorry you experienced what you did during surgery recovery. We are just not ourselves while we’re healing, are we? We’re so vulnerable in so many ways. <3
And it’s precisely when I wish I had my mama to call to hep hold it with me. We’d laugh when she said she needed to get off the phone because her ear “hurt.” That’s a hurt I long for. You are a truth teller and I’m with you. Your presence matters, Katrina. My gratitude for all you offer so generously. 💜
Oh, I miss my mom so much! She would always talk me through these tough times. I miss her voice, her guidance, her love, her laugh. I'm sorry you long for your mom, too. I wish they could stay with us forever. Good moms and good dogs should be immortal. Grateful for you, Joanie. XO
Indeed, our moms and our dogs. Gratitude for these places where we can BE. A place to show the gaps between our bones. Gentle and loving care to us all. Our furry pals included. 🩵🐾
Yes, my friend, I too am tired. I too am afraid. And I too am struggling. It’s an insane world out there. Thank you for speaking the truth of it all. I love you for it. Xoxo
I don't want my friends to be struggling, but there is some kind of comfort in knowing we're not alone, right? I'm grateful you're here in it with me. XO
Persist. 💙
Always. <3
Exhausted. The mental and emotional side of being a writer requires muscles I can’t seem to keep flexed. But we’re writers. At the core, there’s nothing else we’d rather be. We just need trust funds. I guess.
If I ever find myself with a trust fund, I will share it with all my writer friends. But no such trust fund currently exists, so we might be out of luck. <3
" Try to keep your ugly jealousy at bay when others achieve the dreams you’ve been chasing for four decades now." This is one of my deepest feelings--and I know it comes from scarcity, not abundance. And also: The feeling of letting go of the adult children who are fine on their own, who are figuring it out, even if they are miles or continents away. Thank you for writing your truth. <3
Oh, Julia, jealousy is my Achilles, and I hate that part of me. It's ugly and useless, and I wish I could let it go. But I grew up feeling like I didn't have enough of so much that I wanted and needed, and it's rooted itself deep in my bones. Yuck. XO
I just want to say I feel that first paragraph so much. I really do. You are not alone -- and yet I know that doesn't solve any of it either.
It always feels better to have someone sitting in solidarity with you, though, doesn't it? Thank you. XO
This is beautiful, Katrina!
Thank you, Tracy! ❤️
Thanks for keeping it real. I have never felt as vulnerable as I did when recovering from surgery— not just physically, but existentially. I felt like I’d been processed, spit out, then forgotten. And that was in a best case scenario. I hate that you are feeling raw from the cruelty we are swimming in. You are brave to feel it, name it, share it. Wishing you solace from pain, fear, and a home in a safe and welcoming place like the one you have created here.
Thank you so much, Emily. I’m glad you feel safe here. And I’m so sorry you experienced what you did during surgery recovery. We are just not ourselves while we’re healing, are we? We’re so vulnerable in so many ways. <3
And it’s precisely when I wish I had my mama to call to hep hold it with me. We’d laugh when she said she needed to get off the phone because her ear “hurt.” That’s a hurt I long for. You are a truth teller and I’m with you. Your presence matters, Katrina. My gratitude for all you offer so generously. 💜
Oh, I miss my mom so much! She would always talk me through these tough times. I miss her voice, her guidance, her love, her laugh. I'm sorry you long for your mom, too. I wish they could stay with us forever. Good moms and good dogs should be immortal. Grateful for you, Joanie. XO
Indeed, our moms and our dogs. Gratitude for these places where we can BE. A place to show the gaps between our bones. Gentle and loving care to us all. Our furry pals included. 🩵🐾
Good moms and dogs should rule the world. It would be a much kinder place. <3