So vulnerable. I feel so very vulnerable.
I’ve let go. I’ve given over a piece of me. I’ve invited others to sit with a part of me that I had never imagined I would share… at least not publicly.
And yet, I’ve done it.
Since Peter died, I have been using my words as a way of guiding my steps through this tumultuous grief journey.
I’ve written of how my heart broke when Peter’s stopped beating.
I’ve written of how little confidence I possessed when thinking of raising our boys without him.
I’ve written of how often I’ve cried.
How often I’ve sobbed.
How often I’ve struggled to breathe.
I’ve written of how hard it is to do this alone.
I’ve written of how brave I needed to be to ask for help.
I’ve written of how it feels to be medicated in hopes of burning off “the fog.”
I’ve written of how much I miss Peter… his laugh, his touch, his dimples… his life.
I’ve written of how I’ve fashioned together the pieces of Peter’s horrific, final moments.
I’ve written of how my dreams have been void of his presence.
I’ve written of how each birthday, each anniversary, each holiday hurts more than the last.
I’ve written of how I have breathed in the same air that once filled Peter’s lungs.
I’ve written of how painful it is to watch our boys navigate the death of a parent.
I’ve written of how difficult it is to be “the surviving spouse.”
And I’ve shared some of what I have written… in part to let it out, to release it from congesting the stockrooms of my heart.
And now, I’ve drawn it all together into a full manuscript… and asked five people to read it through and offer critique.
I feel so very vulnerable.
And yet, much of what is found within the manuscript’s pages has already been widely shared on social media. I’ve invited many to come alongside me as I grieve Peter’s death.
The writing has, at times been cathartic.
The sharing is, at times both humbling and scary as hell.
Grieving Differently: Queering the Stages of Grief is slated to be published in September of this year.
And I cannot wait to share it with you!



You have shown amazing strength, courage and vulnerability as you travel this “unwanted journey” since Peter’s death. Your words, all written through a steadfast of love, have and will remain, a testament to the amazing life that you and Peter shared …. and a forever love that will never be broken. Thank you for the unselfish act of opening your heart to the world
Your journey has been a support for a friend of mine, as I’m sure it has been for others. Your writing has felt like a gift to me and you have blessed my life by sharing it. Thank you for sharing your journey and honesty and love. ❤️