I was a long-time lurker of your blog... there would have been no way for you to know that you had a devoted 20-something follower in Dallas, TX, eagerly reading your updates at work, but you did. At that time, I was seeking "mom mentors" any and everywhere I could because, after having confessed to a pastor about the desperate state of my personal life, with an abusive husband and two little girls (born 19 months apart) on the spectrum, I was told that marriage and children were designed to get me to heaven, and if I happened to enjoy the process, that was icing on the cake. I remember thinking that my soul must be pretty bad, if it took serial adultery and abuse to get me to heaven, so I resolved to do better to benefit my children (whose conditions were also a symptom of my wickedness, and who I was only making worse by not having been financially resourceful enough to stay at home with them). I remember marveling at how you did it all, and with such thoughtfulness, care, and kindness, thinking you must have had holiness that I couldn't have imagined (and would never be able to attain).
I'm 40 now, though, divorced and deconstructed, and even if I hadn't read your other posts on substack (which I have, because they are beautiful), I would know now what my 20-something self didn't: you were just as terrified as I was - terrified of living, of dying, of failing. You lit yourself on fire to keep everyone warm, just like we had been programmed to. I just wanted to pop in and say that I'm so glad that I found you again - and although its in an entirely different circumstance now, your words are still a balm to my soul, even (especially?) when you make me sob (like this very post :-)). I'm sending a copy to my therapist too... as it just so perfectly encapsulates so many things about my own journey that she can't wrap her mind around, having not been raised Christian at all. Sending you all the love and light.
I was a long-time lurker of your blog... there would have been no way for you to know that you had a devoted 20-something follower in Dallas, TX, eagerly reading your updates at work, but you did. At that time, I was seeking "mom mentors" any and everywhere I could because, after having confessed to a pastor about the desperate state of my personal life, with an abusive husband and two little girls (born 19 months apart) on the spectrum, I was told that marriage and children were designed to get me to heaven, and if I happened to enjoy the process, that was icing on the cake. I remember thinking that my soul must be pretty bad, if it took serial adultery and abuse to get me to heaven, so I resolved to do better to benefit my children (whose conditions were also a symptom of my wickedness, and who I was only making worse by not having been financially resourceful enough to stay at home with them). I remember marveling at how you did it all, and with such thoughtfulness, care, and kindness, thinking you must have had holiness that I couldn't have imagined (and would never be able to attain).
I'm 40 now, though, divorced and deconstructed, and even if I hadn't read your other posts on substack (which I have, because they are beautiful), I would know now what my 20-something self didn't: you were just as terrified as I was - terrified of living, of dying, of failing. You lit yourself on fire to keep everyone warm, just like we had been programmed to. I just wanted to pop in and say that I'm so glad that I found you again - and although its in an entirely different circumstance now, your words are still a balm to my soul, even (especially?) when you make me sob (like this very post :-)). I'm sending a copy to my therapist too... as it just so perfectly encapsulates so many things about my own journey that she can't wrap her mind around, having not been raised Christian at all. Sending you all the love and light.
Talia, as your words sank in, my own tears fell. Thank you, dear heart, for taking time to write this to me. I am so proud of both of us. ❤️🔥
Powerfully beautiful! Thank you for this ❤️
I friend of mine said that she has never felt so liberated as the day she realised she did not believe in heaven anymore.
Because if there was no heaven, there couldn't be any hell either.
Scratching my head over how anyone could convince anyone else they know what happens after death...
I just paused and read this again, more closely this time...
It's almost painfully beautiful 💞
Like life...
So much of this hit home hard. I’m still uncovering remnants and letting them go.
Many of these lines resonate so deeply.
Thank you!
Demian! Thank you! xoxo