I remember when I couldn’t even look at this memory without being swallowed by pain . It would send me spiraling, reminding me of everything I lost. But now, when it pops up, I smile. I feel grateful. It reminds me of a once-in-a-lifetime love that was real, deep, and beautiful. I’m thankful every time it appears.
Getting here didn’t happen overnight. It took time. It took patience, growth, and a whole lot of grace . It took sitting with the pain instead of running from it, allowing it to teach me, shape me, and slowly release its grip. It meant surrendering to a process I couldn’t rush or control. It meant having faith when everything felt hopeless.
There were countless prayers—whispered through tears in the quiet hours, begging God to hold me together when I felt like I was falling apart. There were days when it felt like I took one step forward only to fall three steps back. But even then, I was growing—with and through the pain. I was being refined, stripped of who I was before the loss, and slowly becoming someone new—someone braver, softer, and stronger.
Every hurdle I overcame, every wave I rode out, brought me closer to this place—this space where I can hold grief and gratitude in the same breath. Where I can honor the loss without being consumed by it.
To anyone who is in that dark place right now—please hold on. You are not alone. It will not always hurt like this. Your love mattered. Your grief matters. And your healing matters too.
Give yourself time. Give yourself grace. And know that joy can live alongside sorrow. One day, the memory that once broke you might just become the very thing that reminds you how deeply you loved—and how deeply you were loved in return.
