healing
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CW: death My dad died today. If it seems weird to you that I’d be writing a blog post, well, it is, a little. But writing has always been the way I process things, so I’m doing that now. My dad lived a long life and the last few years were not great for him.
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I’ve been sitting in the dark for the last half an hour or so, frozen. I have a bunch of things to do, some of which are work and some of which are fun, but I can’t move. Tomorrow I am going to do a very big thing. It doesn’t really matter what it is.
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“You’re so pretty,” my friend said to me. It was one of those nights you have with friends where everyone drinks a lot and the conversation turns to how much you all love each other. “You should have seen her 10 years ago,” another friend said. I laughed at him, but I am a slow
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CW: diet culture talk I think of it like armour. It’s heavy, and cumbersome, but I wear it to protect me. When I can finally take it off, I’m tired. I recently spent time with an old friend. I love her. She’s been so wonderful to me during a hard time. She encourages me. She
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She sits down with her coffee in the morning and makes a list. Weed garden, do dishes, get groceries, get your shit together, the list says. The list represents all of the things she will do when she is fully recovered. When she tells you it has been a hard couple of years, she is
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I grew up thinking my voice was annoying. If you’re Gen X, like me, you probably learned at least one of the following lessons: No? Just me? Maybe so. Your experience may vary. (Honestly, I hope it does.) There was always something about my voice to which my father objected. It was too loud, too
Pretty Lynne Writes 