Writing, vulnerability, and thanks

Today, I’m super thankful. I’m sitting reflecting on the fact that I am able to use writing as a therapeutic and creative outlet. Five months before Fareed passed away, I started my blog. I wrote about things I was truly passionate about- being a wife, mom, and the joy in my everyday life. Was I pouring my whole heart into my writing? No. I was always fearful to add to much emotion or weakness to my writings. What if people reject my writing, that means they are rejecting me. Was I aware at that time? Not at all. Writing has always been a passion and outlet for me.
When Fareed passed I naturally turned to writing. I was constantly jotting my feelings, thoughts, and memories. There was to much spinning in my head. Putting the words to paper helped ground it all. People kept asking how I was. People kept wondering if I would continue blogging. People kept wondering what this journey looked like. So, I decided to blog about it. And I felt literal weight leave my chest. So I kept writing.
I wondered what the outside world thought. I was being extremely vulnerable. I was letting people (even strangers) into my story, into my broken heart. The encouragement I received was amazing. I was a 24 year old pregnant widow. There was little on the internet about grief journeys like mine. I looked. I wanted to know how to cope with the loss of my husband while birthing our child. I want to know what life will look like as a solo mom of two under two. I wanted tips on how to do this widow thing, especially under the age of 25. It just wasn’t there. So I decided I would continue to write, process it with others. One day I hope to look back at these writings and see how far I have come. Maybe one day a young pregnant widow will stumble across my blog and feel the slightest relief.
I lost my “I could never live without you.” I started to realize the unimaginable had happened to me, why do I fear others opinions? There was so much freedom in that realization. That by writing I had nothing to lose, and lots to gain. There is a stigma about grief. It quite often makes people uncomfortable. Some may give you the room to grieve, but they surely don’t want to hear about it. I want that to change. People go on the Internet every day and rant about their religious, political, and parenting views. Why can’t we talk about emotions? Emotions are messy. It’s hard to watch someone literally put the pieces of their life back together. I hope by being vulnerable with my emotions I encourage others to do the same. We are emotional beings made for community and love. Our lives should not be merely about the day to day decisions. The further I dig into my heart and this journey, the easier I am finding it to love those around me well.
Before Fareed passed I never had the courage to say I was going to pursue writing, let alone call myself a writer. Something I have loved since I was a young girl. I am thankful the Lord has put me in a season where I am becoming less fearful of my emotions. I am thankful for a community of people who show up time and time again to encourage me. I am thankful for a passion deep inside me for words. I am so thankful for a beautiful story of love. Though that love story was so unfairly robbed from me, it gives me reason. Fareed taught me to believe in myself and he continues to do that even after his death.
I want to write more than my grief journey, I want to write our love story. Every time I think about it, I get overwhelmed. My life with a newborn and toddler does not allow time to write a book. So, I am writing it day by day on Instagram. You can watch the 800 days unfold by following s.s.jubilee. I am thankful for the outlets I have in this season. I am thankful that during my darkest days I am able to find relief by sharing my heart. I hope my writing frees others to be vulnerable as well. The pain has been unbearable, but every time I write it gets a little lighter.

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