IronButterflyHD

 You’re moving, but you’re not moving forward. The world spins, but you stay in the same place. The music plays. The scenery repeats. And you go around and around, hoping the next lap won’t hurt as much. Some days the ride feels gentle, almost lulling you into a rhythm. Other days, the spinning is too much. It leaves you dizzy, sick, exhausted. And still, you ride. Because there’s no easy way to get off. Because somehow, you’re still waiting for the part where it feels different. But here is what the carousel teaches you.  Even circles are movement.   Grief is changing you,  quietly, in the turning.  And love is what keeps you on the ride. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses met...

  From afar, it looks like something anyone could hold. But once it’s in your hands, you feel the weight of everything inside: memories, regrets, what-ifs, longings, all pressed together, stacked tight. Some layers are sweet, some bitter, some hard to swallow. People think they understand. But they don’t see the layers that give it weight, the ones that make it messy and real. Grief lives in the middle, where it clings, presses, and holds. It’s complicated. It’s heavier than it looks. It is always more than anyone else can see. And yet, somehow,  you carry it. One bite at a time. One day at a time. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and une...

  Over and over again, testing combinations, guessing, hoping. Each attempt feels like it might work. Your fingers hover. You hold your breath. Maybe this time. Sometimes it feels close. The numbers align just right. But the access is gone. What you want most is still there, just beyond reach, on the other side. But remembering does not return it. It only reminds you what cannot be regained. And slowly, quietly, you learn a different kind of persistence: to keep your hand on the door, to keep moving forward, even when it stays locked. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and unexpected pockets of sweetness that grief can bring. Perfect for times w...

  Grief takes you up  and down without warning. One moment you feel almost okay,  catching your breath,  finding a glimpse of light. The next,  you’re pulled down again. The drop feels sudden,  sharp, endless. It’s exhausting,  this constant rise and fall. You never know which  way the turn is taking you. But even in the spinning,  the one constant is love. It’s what keeps the ride going, even when it feels unbearable. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and unexpected pockets of sweetness that grief can bring. Perfect for times when focus is difficult, each metaphor is independent, so the book can be read ...