Reach for the light

Community.

This thing we build on love, on mutual understanding, on acceptance, on camaraderie, and on empathy birthed from hardships.

Life is so breathtakingly beautiful. And in its beauty, it can also be very hard at times.

Life’s about holding the light for one another.

It’s about clinging to hope and faith.

It’s about clinging to love.

And it’s about reaching out our hands and uniting.

This is how strangers become friends, and this is how we remember we are never, ever alone.

Reach for the light.

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Why I Write

I’ve often been asked why I write. As in why I write here. For you.

I suppose it’s one thing to write for yourself; about your life…about your struggles…about your fears…and lock it away in some private space. But it’s an entirely different thing to write online…to write for the entire world to see.

And so, for nearly 4 years, you’ve asked…and now, I’ll answer; it’s not pretty…it’s not romantic…and it’s not eloquent. But it is the truth.

I write because – when I was young – I used to have an imaginary friend. My imaginary friend had a quiet, invisible voice. And that voice made living in this world a lot easier for me. That voice came out in my childhood journaling…it anchored me – looking back – it saved me.

I often felt very alone as a little girl. As though I had somehow been dropped somewhere that I wasn’t meant to be.

I would watch everyone around me make friendships…make plans…make room to belong. And I never felt like one of them.

I had some beautiful people in my life…but something always felt different. Every connection always felt somewhat at arm’s length.

I was never someone’s safety net. I was never really someone’s best friend. I was never someone’s first choice. Even if they were mine.

And loneliness became a very real thing for me.

If we’re being super honest here…this early feeling of disconnect left me with an insecurity that looks a little something like this…

There is a constant underlying belief within me that I care more about others than they do about me.

I feel like the person who is easy to forget about.

The person who is easy to walk away from.

The person who can lift out of other people’s lives without them even noticing.

And for a long time, it made something inside of me physically hurt. It brought a pain that never really went away. It haunted every friendship that I had. But with age and with God, I learned to become more at ease with my sense of separateness.

A knowing began to fill my soul that I was never really alone at all…and most of the time, I felt okay.

Until I wasn’t okay.

Until the days when I would remember that I’ve never been in someone’s wedding party. Or that I’m not the friend that someone calls when something exciting happens to them. Or that I’ll never be a collection of inside jokes from a lifetime of growing up together.

It’s in those times when the aching spaces would feel very deep and very hollow.

But it’s also been in those times that I’ve come to realize that – for some of us – relationships can be a very polarizing experience.

We crave it and we fear it.

We are healed by it and we are destroyed by it.

We need it and we resist it.

And somewhere in the middle, lies that innate desire we possess to be tethered to solid ground.

But, when I was a little girl…I didn’t know how to sit through that discomfort. I didn’t know how to understand my place in this world. I didn’t know that – even in isolation – we could find strength together.

So, I created someone who did.

That someone had a quiet, invisible voice and was the embodiment of two words that made me feel a lot less alone…

“Me too”

And that’s often all it took. The simple knowledge that I wasn’t standing in the shadows by myself.

And because of this…I write. Here. In this space. For you.

I write because of the air that lingers between us.

I write because of the truth that lives in that space where one of us ends and the other begins.

I write because in our own unique way…we’re all connected.

I write because I believe these are two of the most powerful words in the English language. Two words that blow over us and wrap us in the comfort of all our common threads. Two words that can reach down into the darkness and pull us all from the wreckage.

But in order for those words to exist…someone needs to blink first.

And so I write.

I write because I have come to believe that sometimes – we all need an invisible, quiet voice to share the most beautiful of whispers…

“Me too”.

Together

Sometimes I sit here…staring at this screen…and I just don’t know what to say. Because sometimes, it’s just not easy. Sometimes, what you want to say and what you feel just aren’t on the same frequency. Sometimes, what pours out of your heart doesn’t always pour out onto paper.

And then fear. Vulnerability.

To me, fear always felt like a hostage situation. As though I was somehow handcuffed to circumstances I couldn’t break away from. And all the while, I’d forget that I also possessed the key to those very same handcuffs.

I was both the hostage and the one holding myself captive.

There’s something incredibly overwhelming about being brought to your knees in pure gratitude. About having your vulnerability bring people together. About being a part of something so much bigger than your self.

There is something incredibly overwhelming about being seen. For all that you are. All that you were. And all that you hope to be.

When I look at it, I am reminded of a fundamental truth…a truth that I nearly let pass me by in my river of sadness. I am reminded that while our own walk with God is just that…our own…our walk through life was never meant to be taken alone.

Because that’s what this life is really about. Crying together. Laughing together. Living together. Reaching out to the heavens…together.

My dear autism and special needs parents

My dear autism and special needs parents:

On the days you feel your worst,

remember that you are beautiful

On the days you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing, know that you are brilliant

On the days you feel exhausted and can’t go any further, look back and see how far you’ve come

On the days you feel you can’t handle another battle,

look at your scars and be proud of the ones you’ve won

On the days you feel alone, know that you never are…

Even if you don’t think you can push through, you can – one step, one breath (one coffee, one set of eye pads) at a time💙

Sleep is so often something we don’t get as autism parents. Our kiddos can have a particularly challenging time falling or staying asleep.

For a while our challenge was the staying asleep. Now it’s BOTH falling asleep and staying asleep.

I often wonder how long it takes before the human body can’t take anymore…

I wonder how long I can function on such little sleep.

I wonder how my child can have so.much.energy. without having slept.

And then from somewhere, the strength keeps coming.

Moment by moment, breath by breath, I hold on to hope.

Hope turns the impossible into possible…and sometimes that’s all we need to get us through.

Hope for this moment, hope for this day. Hold on to hope my dear friends.