🧘🏾♀️My Own Best friend
🌑 The Weight of “Me, Myself, and I”
We all know that famous line: “Me, myself, and I — that’s all I got in the end.”
It used to be my anthem. My badge of honor.
I didn’t have solid friends. I didn’t have siblings. I couldn’t tell my mom everything.
So, I wore independence like armor… until it started feeling more like a knife in my back.
Losing my dad just two weeks ago cracked something open in me I didn’t expect.
I’ve been needing a break; a breath, a pause, a moment to exist without carrying so much.
But every day I wake up and reality hits me just as hard:
I really have to do everything by myself.
Emotionally.
Financially.
Physically.
Mundanely.
Every. Single. Thing.
🧍🏾♀️ Doing It All While Falling Apart
When I wake up sad about my dad, I have to pull myself out of it.
When the grief gets heavy, I have to soothe myself, motivate myself, talk myself into holding on.
I still have to show up at work, even when I feel hollow inside.
I still have to pay every bill, handle every responsibility, keep the house together, walk my dog four times a day, get groceries, make appointments, take care of everything.
I’m doing all of this while grieving, alone.
It didn’t hit me how much it was until I caught myself saying out loud,
“I have to do everything.”
And hearing that truth back crashed into me.
The holiday season already brings up loneliness for me… but this year, with my dad gone, it’s louder.
Putting up my Christmas tree; dragging it out of the closet, fluffing the branches, setting it up, wasn’t hard, but God… if I had someone to do it for me?
It would’ve meant the world.
Just a tiny reminder that I don’t have to carry life alone.
But the truth is: I do.
📞 The Silence After the Initial Shock
Friends called when the news first hit, but those calls faded.
My mom tries, but she isn’t emotionally available in the way I need sometimes.
Some friends text “I love you” every few days like it’s supposed to hold me together.
Others say “you can always talk to me” but disappear when I actually start talking.
Nobody’s giving real space.
Nobody’s holding the weight with me.
People get to go back to their normal lives… while mine feels completely shattered.
This week’s post isn’t tidy. It’s not poetic.
It’s a journal entry. A vent. A release.
A place to put the heaviness because I have nowhere else to put it.
Sometimes I wonder why the universe made me carry so much alone.
Why, even now, they didn’t send someone who could hold me through this.
Why I always have to be the one strong enough to lift, fix, soothe, rebuild.
And yes, I can do it alone. I always have.
But for the first time I’m realizing:
Just because I can doesn’t mean I want to.
Right now, I really don’t.
🌘 Naming the Loneliness So It Doesn’t Consume Me
I know I’m not the only one living life in this kind of solitude; the quiet kind where nobody sees how much you’re carrying.
Everyone feels this at different moments; mine is just peaking right now.
Instead of hiding from it, I’m writing through it.
Feeling through it.
Naming it.
And if you’re here reading this…
if you’ve ever felt like you have to carry your whole world by yourself…
Just know this:
Even in the feeling of “I’m alone,” someone else — me — is living the same truth.
Which somehow means… we’re actually not as alone as we think.
💌 A Gentle Reminder for Your Weekend
This weekend, remember:
You were never meant to hold every part of life by yourself.
Even strength needs a place to soften.
Let this be the weekend you stop punishing yourself for being tired.
You are not failing; you are carrying more than most people ever acknowledge.
You’re allowed to pause.
You’re allowed to not have the answers.
You’re allowed to want someone to lean on.
Needing support doesn’t make you less capable.
It makes you human, and deserving of softness, too.
🌷 Thank You for Reading
If you made it this far, thank you for sitting with me in a moment that isn’t polished or pretty.
Thank you for letting me be human here.
I don’t have a perfect lesson to offer this week, just truth.
And if any part of my exhaustion, loneliness, or honesty landed with you, I hope it reminds you that none of us are walking this life as effortlessly as it looks from the outside.
We’re doing the best we can with what we’ve been given.
And that is enough, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
✨ Affirmation Set:
I honor the weight I’ve been carrying and the strength it took to hold it.
I release the belief that I must do everything alone to be worthy.
I am allowed to rest without earning it.
I can be both strong and tired; both capable and in need of care.
Support is aligning for me in forms I may not yet see.
I soften the parts of me that learned survival was the only option.
Even in moments of deep loneliness, I am held by something greater than myself.
📝 Soft Return Reflection Prompts:
What parts of me learned that asking for help was unsafe, unavailable, or disappointing?
In what moments do I feel the heaviness of “it’s all on me” the most? (And what do I need in those moments that I’ve never received?)
Which emotions have I been holding alone because I didn’t think anyone could hold them with me?
Where have I mistaken strength for self-abandonment?
How has loneliness shaped the way I show up for myself — and how has it shaped the way I protect myself?
Until Next Time 🌺
