
14/07/2025
đ«¶11 Years Without My Mum đïž
đ For a long time, I thought I had to find solid ground a permanent home in the darkness of grief.
But instead, I found places to pauseâŠ
âșTo pitch a tent, đ„light a bonfire, and đ«catch my breath.
They werenât destinations they were sacred stops.Moments to rest, reflect, and keep going.
Step by step. Breath by breath.
I chose not to let the pain drown me.
Not to let it steal the life my children deserve or the life my mum gave me.
They didnât choose this loss. Neither did I.
But I did choose what came next.
Those early days were loud with heartbreak.
I thought grief would swallow me whole.
But over time, I realised: darkness has its place, but it does not get to define me.
Whatâs carried me through isnât the absence of pain Itâs the presence of meaning & knowledge.
Of small fires in the night.
Of quiet moments when I whispered, Not today. I will not be lose this fight.
If I could tell my younger self anything, itâs this:
Thereâs no shame in needing rest.
No failure in pitching a tent.
And no dishonour in continuing on.
Loss taught me how to feel
not just pain, but the depth of love that made it hurt.
How to honour the loss while making room for life.
How to live fully, even with the ache.
Not as something to forget but something sacred I carry.
It softened me.
It stripped away the noise.
And it reminded me: every breath is a gift.
I remember what itâs like to feel broken and isolated while the rest world steams forward.An utter silence where all you can hear is your heart aching.
âNow I became who I once needed.â
Healing begins when we are witnessed not judged, not rushed. Just met, in love, exactly where we are.
This is how I honour my mum.
By living. By feeling.
By walking with others and beside hand in hand.
âïž11 years laterâŠ
Grief still visits.
But now, so do peace, purpose, and a fierce love that reaches back to the girl I was
and forward to light the way for someone else.
For her.
For me.
For you.