The thought that keeps poking at me

Lately, I’ve been sitting with a thought. Not obsessing over it, just letting it hang out in the background while I do normal things like stare blankly at the vacuum cleaner or reheat the same cup of tea for the third time.

The thought?
What if the version of me that comes after loss isn’t weaker, but clearer?

Life lately (also known as emotional whiplash)

A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have said I felt “clear” about anything. Two friends. Two funerals. A pile of grief the size of my backyard (which is finally tidy, by the way). And me, somewhere in the middle, functioning mostly on instinct, caffeine, and that weird inner calm I apparently project while internally screaming.

But now that I’ve had some time to sit with it all, I’ve noticed something strange: I feel less confused. Not happier, not more inspired, just... less foggy. Like someone finally cleaned the windshield.

What got stripped away

Loss doesn’t just take people. It takes illusions. And noise. And clutter, in every sense. It’s like your brain walks around with a giant “Nope” stamp and starts using it liberally.

Nope to small talk that makes your soul itch.
Nope to emotional freeloaders.
Nope to pretending everything is fine when it’s obviously not.

And in that clearing out, something shifts. You get to see what actually matters. And, maybe for the first time in a while, you get a clearer view of you.

Not enlightened, just real

Don’t get me wrong — I haven’t ascended into some enlightened version of myself. I still forget why I walked into rooms. I still cry at the sight of a coffee mug that used to belong to her. I still feel like I’m wobbling half the time.

But I also feel… real. A little raw. A little tougher in some ways, softer in others.
I’m not “strong” in the Instagram-inspo-quote way.
I’m just here. More myself. Less edited.

And somehow, that feels like something.

A little reflection

Grief will never be tidy. It won't ever fully make sense. But sometimes, in the middle of the ache, it hands you a mirror. And even if you're still in your pajamas and your hair looks like you wrestled a hedge, what you see staring back might just be the most honest version of you yet.

So maybe it’s not about bouncing back or “healing” in some linear, poetic way.
Maybe it’s about becoming clearer on who you are, what you need, and what you're no longer willing to carry.

What about you?

Have you ever gone through something that quietly changed the shape of who you are?
Not in a loud, dramatic way, but in that subtle, irreversible shift where one day you just realize, oh… I see things differently now?

I'd love to hear your version of clarity. Or even just where you’re at.

Greetings from a mom who is cleaning the house and pondering