Sober in the City—and the grief we don't talk about
Hi Friend,
I'm still smiling about Sober in the City. If you weren't there, picture this: a room full of women picking cowgirl names for the night, mountain views out every window, and Debbie, the best square dance caller in Colorado—a woman, of course—running the floor like she was born to it. (She was.)
There was a baked potato bar (yes, fully loaded). A beauty bar where we got our eyebrows done. A photo backdrop that made everyone look like the main character. And tucked into one corner, my curated Kendra Scott jewelry collection glittered away like it knew it was the cherry on top.
It was joyful. It was silly. It was sober. And it was exactly the kind of night that reminds me why we built this community in the first place.
And then there was the other thing.
I shared something tender on the mic that night. My youngest daughter is graduating from high school today. She's turning 18 next week. This is the end of an era for me—the end of being the mom of children and the beginning of being the mom of adults.
Here's what people don't always know about me: I have loved being a mom. I mean, deeply, at a soul level, I loved it. In every single one of my school yearbooks — kindergarten through senior year — under "what I want to be when I grow up," I wrote the same thing. Friends changed. Interests changed. Career aspirations changed. Hairstyles definitely changed. The one constant, year after year, was "I want to be a mom." So when I tell you this chapter ending is a big one for me, please understand—this wasn't just a role I took on. It was the role I dreamed of my whole life.
My own 73-year-old (emotional support) mom was there, supporting her 50-year-old daughter. (That sentence is its own kind of beautiful.) And so many people came up to me afterward to comfort me. They meant well. They said things like, "She'll come back," and "You're a parent forever," and I know that. I do. I have a 21-year-old who I am wildly close to. I know how this works.
But here's the thing I want to name out loud, because I think a lot of us are carrying versions of this: we don't do grief well in this culture. We don't let people be sad. Sadness makes us so uncomfortable that we rush to fix it, reframe it, or remind the griever how lucky they actually are.
This is the best-case scenario. My (almost 18-year-old) baby is healthy. She's doing well. She's independent. She's fully equipped to fly. And I am still, somehow, allowed to feel sad about the ending of this chapter for me. No more children living in my home. That is a real thing to grieve, even when everything is going right.
The people who landed the softest that night weren't the fixers. They were the women who walked up and said, "I lost my son." "I lost my husband." "I lost my job." "I miss my kids too." "It was hard for me, too." They didn't try to talk me out of it. They sat in it with me. That is the work. That is the medicine.
If you're grieving something—big, small, socially acceptable, or the kind no one thinks counts—I see you. You don't have to make it pretty. You don't have to rush to the silver lining. You're allowed to be sad and grateful in the same breath.
A little something pretty: 15% off Kendra Scott
If you've been eyeing anything from my curated Kendra Scott collection (or you want a little treat for yourself, your graduate, or your favorite mom), here you go:
Code: 265062fif15
15% off + free shipping — good through May 20th.
A special announcement is coming this week
I've been quietly working on something I'm so excited to tell you about: an upcoming retreat. I'll be sharing all the details in the next few days—the where, the when, the who-it's-for. If you want to be the first to hear (and the first to grab a spot, because these things fill up fast), make sure you're in the community.
This week's meetings
Come as you are. Whether you're sober-curious, newly sober, or years in, there's a seat for you.
- Connection Call with Host Deb - Monday 7 pm CST
- Topic Call: Motivation with Host Stacey - Wednesday 7 pm CST
- Topic Call: Intimacy and Relationships Host Cindi—Thursday 2 pm CST
Sending you so much love this week. Be soft with yourself.
XO!
-Heather
P.S. If someone you love is grieving something right now — even something that "should" be a happy occasion — try not to fix it. Just say, "I see you." That's so hard. Tell me more." That's the whole assignment.
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