Why Healing from Trauma in Therapy Sometimes Feels Like Losing Your Identity

If therapists were being honest with you, there is typically a moment in therapy where we reach an impasse. Almost everyone does.

The blocking belief usually sounds like this question:“Who am I if I am not ________?” (anxious, suicidal, a people-pleaser, a rageaholic, careless, traumatized, a victim, etc.)

At its core, the question often becomes this: Who am I without my trauma, my anxiety, or the roles I learned to survive?

For lots of folks, this is the moment therapy stops being about fixing a problem and starts becoming about reconsidering who they have believed themselves to be for a very long time.

The Moment Therapy Gets Uncomfortable

Therapists don't always prepare clients for the impact of what it will mean to your protective system when you heal and shed the identity of your injuries.

I mean, think about it: you come to therapy because something in your life isn't working, and initially, you start working on that thing. And then, at some point, your therapist says: "I think this is related to something from your past." That's a scary point for many people.

We, as your therapist, are asking you to leave an identity behind. Letting this old role go means that you will also lose the benefits that this role has given you.

All Symptoms Have a Purpose

Now you might be saying to yourself, "Megan, there are NO benefits to my anxiety, my trauma, my suicidal thoughts, my people-pleasing!" And I'm here to push back against that thought a bit. An old supervisor of mine used to say, "All symptoms have a function."

I'm here to say that all suffering has purpose, even when it feels purposeless. Humans rarely hold onto something unless it serves a purpose or benefit, even if that benefit is negligible.

If all symptoms have a function, then the identities we build around our pain also make sense.

When people begin healing from trauma in therapy, we often discover that these identities were shaped by parts of us that were trying very hard to survive earlier experiences.

Healing from Trauma

When trauma starts to be met and shifted in the therapy room, something interesting tends to happen.

At some point, you start noticing that different parts of you show up in relationships. There may be a younger part that learned how to protect you when things were painful or unpredictable earlier in life.

In Relational Life Therapy, we sometimes talk about these as adaptive child parts. These parts learned how to survive emotionally when you were younger. They figured out strategies that helped you get through situations where you had less power, less support, or fewer choices than you do now.

And honestly, many of those strategies were incredibly smart.

But healing asks something new of you. It asks you to begin noticing when those younger parts are running the show, and to practice responding from your wise adult self instead.

That shift sounds simple, but it is not easy.

Because when you move from your injured parts into your wise adult self, you may lose some things along the way.

One thing people often lose is the strange sense of permission that comes with being hurt. When we are operating from an injured part, there can be a quiet belief that says, “I get to react this way because of what happened to me.” Anger, criticism, shutting down, or controlling behavior can feel justified.

And in some ways, it can even feel empowering.

Healing begins to take that permission away. Not because your pain was not real, but because staying inside that identity will not give you the relationships or life you actually want.

Another possible loss is more concrete.

When you begin standing up for yourself, setting boundaries, or speaking honestly about what you need, some relationships may not adjust well. If a relationship has been built around your silence, your flexibility, or your willingness to tolerate certain behaviors, changing that pattern can disrupt the entire dynamic.

Sometimes people grow alongside you.

And sometimes they don't.

For couples who are already at a crossroads, this can feel especially vulnerable. Healing does not guarantee that every relationship will survive. What it does offer is the chance to show up more honestly and more consciously in the relationships that matter most.

And while letting go of those old roles can feel disorienting at first, it also opens the door to something new: relationships where you are not just surviving, but participating as your full adult self.

What You Lose When You Stop People-Pleasing

For example, if you look at people-pleasing parts, when you have shed that role, you will find that you are no longer universally liked by people. The sense of control you had from regulating how others see you is now gone, and you may feel unmoored, undefended, and suddenly unsafe.

You may shed the good feelings related to "always being adaptable, 'chill', flexible, or the pride associated with always being able to “handle everything.” These losses will not feel good-- and then, when you've found a new, healthier way to move forward, you will feel good again.

Why Letting Go Can Feel Disloyal

Leaving behind old identities, negative beliefs, or reactive responses can be truly difficult. It can feel disloyal to our past selves, our family of origin, etc., especially if we are talking about something from our childhood. Your protective parts come alive and say things like, 'It wasn't that bad.... That's just how it was.... Other people had it worse.'

Even letting go of the beliefs that served you and kept you safe previously can cause fear to flare up. If you had a belief that "nothing ever works out for me," and then you start therapy and begin to question this belief and where it came from and how it kept you from reaching too far above reach beyond what your family of origin believed your place in life should be and therefore, never risk disappointment.... Well, there you go.

Giving up that limiting belief that "nothing ever works out for me," means you may have to actually risk it and reach for the things/relationships/jobs/opportunities you deeply desire, even if they feel out of reach.

Making the Unconscious Conscious

There's a famous quote by Carl Jung, that says, "Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and call it fate." What Jung meant was that until we make sense of our hidden stories, implicit learnings from the past, we will inhabit lives that are directed (unknowingly) by our past selves, our protective parts, our trauma history and identities. For many of us, making the implicit explicit is the start of a serious change in behavior.

I'll share a personal story with you: my own therapist told me that I was an avoidantly attached person in love, and that I often set up 'tests' for my husband without knowing I was doing so. Ouch! In that moment during our session, there was a part of me that wanted to fire her, and then another part of me that said, "yeah, I am doing that, and I know it isn't going to get more of what I want."

The 'tests' I set up were both protective, and they were also invulnerable, and antithetical to intimacy with my spouse. Basically, Terry Real says, "You can't get angry at not getting what you never asked for." In order for me to get more of what I wanted, I had to get comfortable withsetting limits with the part of me that loves protection and distance over closeness and risk. I had to risk vulnerability and being disappointed potentially, in order to get actual joy and closeness with my spouse.

Once the unconscious became conscious in that session, I could let go of the identity of the angry, victimized wife, and take a chance on making direct requests of my spouse, which ultimately led to more happiness in our relationship.

Two Questions to Ask Yourself in Therapy

Two questions can help you begin exploring what healing might require you to release:

1. What might I lose if I heal this part of me?

2. What would I like to feel instead? What role could this part play in my future?

Once you know the answers to these questions, you will find a direction in the therapy room, and it will speed up and deepen your healing process. And you deserve healing that is deep and effective.

Healing often asks us to release identities that once protected us. That process can feel uncertain, especially if you are standing at a crossroads in a relationship, carrying grief that has reshaped your life, or living with a nervous system that is always on high alert.

You do not have to navigate that process alone.

Therapy can be a place to explore the roles you have carried, the losses that shaped you, and the possibilities that still exist for your life and relationships.

If this post resonated with you, I invite you to start with the two questions above and notice what comes up with curiosity and compassion.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourselves,

Megan

"Should I Stay or Should I go?": How to Grieve the Relationship You Will Never Get

How many of us have the partnership or marriage we imagined when we daydreamed about our adult life as teenagers or as young adults? ... Hmmm... none of us, yup, right. (And if you said, "Yes, this is the marriage/relationship I always dreamed I would have," good for you! Your experience is not the norm, and I hope you cherish it.)

Basically, if you don't feel like windblown, blissful Nicholas Cage in the gif below, when you think about your relationship, you are a normal human being. So let's dive deep into why you're normal, why you have to grieve to get more of what you want, and how to move through this process to the other side of real, knowledgable love.

Today we're going to talk about how grief and long term relationships often go hand in hand. Interestingly, participation in this grieving process we call 'Relational Reckoning' in Relational Life Therapy, can free us from the falsehood that the perfect relationship will rescue us from disappointment, hurt, anxiety, stress, etc.

Relational reckoning is the quiet, often painful process of grieving the relationship you thought you would have and facing the reality of the one you really have. It is a slow, layered and intentional process, and it's not fun.

For many people, this process of relational grief begins after a rupture. Sometimes it follows betrayal. Sometimes it grows slowly after years of unmet needs. Or it emerges post immense loss, where both partners are changed in unexpected ways.

You may find yourself asking:

"Is this the relationship I hoped for? Can this become something different? Am I staying out of love or out of fear? How do I know whether to hold on or let go?"

What Is Relational Reckoning?

Relational reckoning is the process of coming to terms with the gap between the relationship you imagined and the one you are living in. It's learning to let go of the imaginary ideal partner you truly deserve (prince charming or princess charming) and recognizing and appreciating the partner you have in front of you, while you grieve that relationship that never was and never will be.

Most of us give up something in order to stay in a long term relationship, whether that be hobbies, certain relationships, unlimited freedom, lifestyle choices, etc. And that needs to be honored by grieving, truly feeling the loss and allowing yourself to move forward fully rooted in your decision to stay, despite what you will never get.

Most of us enter relationships with an internal blueprint. That blueprint is shaped by attachment history, family patterns, cultural messages, and personal longing. We imagine safety. Emotional attunement. Partnership. Endless Fun. Incredible awe-inspiring sex. Ridiculous gestures of romance. Shared growth.

When reality does not match that vision, grief surfaces.

This grief is often invisible, and is connected to disenfranchised grief. No one died. Nothing dramatic may have happened. Yet something important feels unobtainable, lost, even stolen from us.

We have to hold our unfulfilled desires with open hands, so we can recognize when we do get more of what we want in relationships. Grieve so you can get.

You may be mourning:

• The version of your partner you believed you married

• The ease you thought you would have in your life once you met 'The One'

• The emotional security you assumed would grow naturally

• That relationships are never 100% safe

• The feeling of being on the 'same page' as your partner and recognizing you may see things (politics, religion, child rearing practices, intimacy, etc.) very differently

• The fact that you may have to ask for what you need and want again and again

• What you haven't gotten in the past

• The imperfectness of repair

• The shared future you pictured

• The reality that repair cannot go back and change what has already happened

This process invites you to face that grief directly instead of minimizing it.

Grieving the Relationship You Thought You Deserved

There is a particular kind of sorrow that comes from realizing you may not receive the kind of love you longed for. This can activate attachment wounds from your past, both in childhood and previous romantic relationships.

If you have a history of emotional inconsistency, neglect, or abandonment, relational disappointment can feel familiar, painful and deeply personal. When you experience this letdown in love, you may initially behave in ways that get you even less of what you want.

While grappling with this grief, you might notice:

• Heightened sensitivity to rejection

• A strong urge to protest or pursue

• Emotional shutdown to protect yourself

• Thoughts like “Maybe I am too much” or “Maybe this is all I get”

  
  

Grieving the relationship you thought you deserved is honest and hard work. You will never get a perfect love story, and your partner cannot rescue the younger versions of you from the trials of your past. Grief acknowledges that love alone does not automatically create safety or mutual growth. It also allows you to separate fantasy from reality. That clarity allows you to 'choose' your partnership, with eyes wide open.

Cherishing the Relationship You Do Have

Relational reckoning is not only about loss, but also it is a discernment model. Sometimes, when we step back from the imagined relationship, we can see the real one more clearly.

Ask yourself:

• What is actually present here?

• Where do we show up well for each other?

• Can my partner and I take accountability 70-80% of the time when we mess up?

• Do we have fun together? Do we 'see' each other and still like each other at our core?

• Are there moments of genuine connection?

• Is there willingness to grow?

  
  

Cherishing the relationship you do have does not mean ignoring what hurts. It means seeing the full picture. Many couples get stuck because they are fighting the reality of their differences instead of learning how to work with them.

In attachment-focused couples therapy, like Relational Life Therapy, we often explore the idea that conflict is not the enemy. Conflict is a signal that you both are in it, for better or worse. It's how we do conflict that often needs refining. You cannot yell and scream and curse and get more connection. It's just not how it works. And you can't shut down and wall off, and get more peace and quiet and calme. It's just not how it works.

A partner who struggles with vulnerability may not lack love. They may, however, lack skills. A partner who protests loudly may not be controlling. They may be afraid of losing connection.

Relational reckoning asks: Is this a relationship that can expand? Or one that is unable to meet enough of what I need and want to justify the work I must do to let go of the things I cannot and never will get from my partnership?

How to Know If It Is Time to Repair

Not every relationship needs to end. Many need repair, which is the practice of meeting your partner's emotional hurt with humility and an eagerness to reconnect and soothe.

Here's an example for my tactile learners: When you forget to pick up the dry cleaning or call the lawn guy and your partner snaps at you, "Why can't you just be more responsible?," a repair might sound like, "I am sorry I forgot this, and I want to understand your frustration about it. Tell me more... Is there anything I can do right now to repair with you?"

Can you guess what repair doesn't sound like? Same scenario as above, but instead you snap back, "Well, fuck me, I guess. I'm such an irresponsible jerk, but you also are a mean, nagging shrew." Whew. That response may feel 'good' in the moment but it won't get you more of what you want: closeness, peace, happiness and connection.

You might consider working toward repair if:

• Both partners are willing to reflect and take responsibility

• There is emotional safety, even if it is inconsistent

• Harm is acknowledged and not minimized

• There is effort toward change, not just promises (and yes, 15% effort counts here!)

• You still feel moments of warmth, delight or care

Repair requires mutual engagement. It cannot be carried by one partner alone.

It also requires grieving the fantasy relationship. You cannot rebuild honestly while clinging to what you wish your partner would become.

Sometimes repair means redefining expectations, or renegotiating the contract you started with. Sometimes it means building new patterns of communication. Sometimes it means learning how to co-regulate, or contain yourself (yes, you must learn both protective and containing boundaries!), during conflict.

How to Know If It May Be Time to Let Go

Letting go is one of the hardest decisions in relational reckoning. Ending a relationship is not simply losing a partner. It is losing routines, shared history, and imagined futures.

You might consider whether letting go is necessary if:

• There is ongoing emotional or physical harm (if physical harm is present, I always recommend physical separation, with the help of domestic violence experts, before you make your decision to stay or to go)

• Your needs are consistently dismissed or mocked

• There is no accountability for repeated ruptures

• You aren't getting enough of what you want and need to make the grieving you'll have to do worth it

• You feel chronically unsafe being yourself

• Growth is lopsided

For individuals with attachment wounds, this decision can feel terrifying. Old fears of abandonment or unworthiness may surface. It can be difficult to separate current reality from past trauma. This is why relational reckoning benefits from therapeutic or emotional support.

A therapist can help you distinguish between:

• Trauma activation

• Fear of being alone

• Grief over the real letdowns in real partnerships

• Real relational incompatibility

• Situations that are truly unsafe

You don't have to make a decision in the dark of the night, alone. No decision made in the middle of a crisis was the best, most well-thought out one.

The Role of Attachment in Relational Reckoning

Attachment shapes how we respond to disappointment.

If you lean anxious, you may hold on tightly, hoping things will change. If you trend towards avoidance, you may detach quickly to avoid vulnerability and risk. If you carry unmitigated relational trauma, conflict can feel overwhelming, or you may spark arguments as it feels familiar and 'predictable' because you grew up with it. Your child parts are often running the show, and they can't run an adult relationship effectively, no matter how hard they may try.

What worked in childhood won't work today. It will protect you, at any cost, and at the end of it all, if you don't get your child parts under control, you will lose the very thing you said you wanted: a true, lasting love story.

Relational reckoning asks you to pause before reacting.

It invites questions like:

• Am I responding to this relationship right now, or to an older wound?

• What am I truly needing right now?

• Can this need be met here?

  
  

This kind of self-inquiry moves you from reactivity to agency and empowerment.

You Are Allowed to Want More

One of the most painful parts of relational reckoning is admitting that something is not enough. Many people minimize their dissatisfaction because their partner is “not that bad.” There may be no obvious crisis. No dramatic betrayal. No moment where you look out and realize you have to go Eat. Pray. Love. (and divorce your spouse, so you can chase your codependency with someone else, but I digress).

Just a quiet ache of unfulfilled desires, unrealized dreams, and unrecognized hopes.

You are allowed to want emotional presence. You are allowed to want depth. You are allowed to want partnership that feels mutual. And you can let go of the relationship with love and peace, especially when you've moved through the relational reckoning process with intentionality.

As Terry Real says, "I'm not in the business of making people stay together. I'm in the business of ending misery." This misery can shift with couples therapy, if you both want it. This misery can also end if you decide to let go. Neither choice is perfect, and neither choice guarantees complete happiness, or that you won't repeat similar patterns in a new partnership down the line.

Holding Both Grief and Gratitude

In many relationships, this process of grief isn't all or nothing, nor is it a one and done moment.

You may feel deep appreciation for certain qualities in your partner. You may also feel profound sadness about what is missing. Both can exist. Love can't pay the bills and it can't erase grief, but it can allow for growth towards a real knowing of you and the person you've chosen. Relational reckoning allows you to sit in that complexity without rushing toward immediate decisions. Sometimes the clarity you are seeking emerges slowly, as you watch patterns over time.

When to Seek Support

If you are navigating relational reckoning, you do not have to do it alone.

Couples therapy can help partners understand their attachment patterns and create safer (and more effective) ways to communicate. Individual therapy can help you explore your complex emotions, clarify your needs, and strengthen self-trust. Outside support can prevent old patterns from driving new decisions, especially if you carry attachment wounds or past relational trauma.

A Gentle Invitation

If you are in Edmond, Oklahoma or Vermont and navigating relational reckoning, whether after loss, betrayal, or years of quiet disappointment, therapy can offer a steady space to sort through what feels tangled.

Together, we can explore what you are grieving, what you are cherishing, and what your next step might be. You do not have to rush this decision, nor do you have to carry the weight of it alone. I'm here if you'd like to schedule a consultation to talk further about this.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourselves,

Megan

The Fear of Forgetting After Child Loss: Why Continuing Bonds in Grief Matter

The fear of forgetting after child loss is one of the quietest and most painful parts of grief. Many parents carry a persistent worry that, as time passes, memories will fade. You may wonder what will happen to the sound of your child’s voice, the way they laughed, or the small details only you remember. You may even fear that moments of joy mean you are leaving them behind.

This fear is not a sign that you are grieving incorrectly. It is a reflection of attachment. When you lose a child, the bond does not disappear. What changes is the form that connection takes.

Understanding continuing bonds in grief can ease the belief that remembering and living cannot coexist.

Why the Fear of Forgetting After Child Loss Is So Strong

Parents are biologically wired for connection. From pregnancy or adoption onward, your nervous system organizes around protecting, soothing, and responding to your child. Their needs become part of your rhythm. Their presence shapes your identity.

When a child dies, that attachment system does not simply turn off.

The fear of forgetting after child loss often emerges because the physical reminders are no longer there. You cannot hear their footsteps in the hallway. You cannot reach for them in the same way. Without daily physical reminders, it can feel as though memory is all you have left.

Parents often tell me:

• “What if I forget the way they smelled?”

• “What if their face becomes blurry in my mind?”

• "I can't remember the sound of their voice, and it's making me feel like a bad mother/father."

• “If I start living and having fun again, does that mean I’m moving on?”

• “If other people stop talking about them, will they no longer be remembered?"

  
  

These fears are deeply human, and reflect the deep love between parent and child.

The mind understands death. The attachment system within still longs for closeness.

Attachment Does Not End With Death

In attachment-informed grief work, I see the internal bonds with your child as everlasting, not just external and ending with death. Your child is not only someone you interacted with physically. They are intricately woven into your story, your body, and your sense of self.

Continuing bonds in grief refers to the ongoing inner relationship you maintain with someone who has died. Earlier models of grief suggested that “healthy” mourning required detachment or closure. We now understand that for many grieving parents, detachment is neither realistic nor necessary.

The goal of grief is not to erase attachment. It is to reshape it.

This is not a denial of reality, but an integration of what is true both then and now: that you deeply love your child and want to remain close to them, even if you aren't in the same time and space any longer.

Continuing Bonds and Growing Around Grief: Two Models That Change the Conversation

Two models help reframe this fear. The anxiety of forgetting one's child often softens when parents understand that connection can shift rather than disappear. You may no longer have physical closeness, but you can have internal closeness. You may no longer have shared experiences in the present, but you can carry shared meaning forward.

The Continuing Bonds model affirms that connection does not end with death. Parents may talk to their child internally, honor anniversaries, keep meaningful objects nearby, or carry their presence quietly throughout the day. This is not refusal to accept reality. It is an ongoing expression of love.

Dr. Lois Tonkin’s Growing Around Grief model adds another layer. Grief does not shrink over time. The pain of losing your child remains the same size. What expands is your life around it.

In the beginning, grief fills almost everything. Over time, new experiences and capacities develop alongside it. The loss remains. The love remains. But your world becomes larger.

Together, these models remind us:

You do not have to keep your grief acute to stay connected.

You do not have to let go of your child to live again.

Your grief can remain sacred without remaining all-consuming.

What Continuing Bonds in After Child Loss Really Means

Continuing bonds in grief does not mean staying stuck. It means allowing love to remain part of your life.

For some parents, this may look like:

• Speaking their child’s name

• Keeping meaningful objects visible

• Writing letters or journaling

• Honoring birthdays and anniversaries

• Talking to them during difficult moments

For others, it is quieter. A private ritual. A thought before bed.

There is no single correct way to maintain connection. The question is not whether you are holding on. It is whether the bond feels life-giving or immobilizing. If remembering brings warmth alongside pain, that is often healthy. If it feels fused with guilt or self-punishment, additional support may help.

Letting Go of the Future While Holding On to the Love

One of the most difficult aspects of child loss is not only losing who your child was, but who they were becoming.

Many grieving parents find that the fear of forgetting after child loss is intertwined with grief for the imagined future. You may grieve:

• The milestones you will not witness (going to school for the first time, getting their driver's license, going to prom, getting married, having children of their own, etc.)

• The relationship you expected to have as they grew

• The role you anticipated playing in their adult life

Letting go in grief often means releasing the future you envisioned, not releasing your memory of your child.

This distinction matters.

You are not being asked to stop loving. You are being asked to adapt to a reality you did not choose.

Holding on and letting go can exist at the same time.

When the Fear of Forgetting Feels Overwhelming

For some parents, the fear of forgetting after child loss can become consuming. You may find yourself replaying memories repeatedly to keep them vivid. You may avoid new experiences because they feel like betrayal. You may feel panic when details seem harder to recall.

This response often reflects trauma layered onto grief. Sudden or traumatic losses can intensify the nervous system’s need to hold tightly to memory.

If the fear of forgetting begins to limit your ability to function or connect with others, it may be helpful to work with a therapist who understands grief and attachment. Together, you can explore ways to preserve memory while also creating space for your own ongoing life.

Remembering does not require freezing.

You May Forget Small Things. That Is Not the Same as Forgetting Your Child.

Over time, certain details may soften. The exact pitch of a laugh. The way their hair fell across their forehead. This can feel terrifying.

But forgetting small details is not the same as forgetting your child.

The relationship you had shaped you. It altered your nervous system. It changed how you see the world. And for many mothers, it even changed your body at the cellular level.

Research on fetal microchimerism shows that during pregnancy, fetal cells cross the placenta and can remain in a mother’s body for decades. Long after birth, and even after loss, some mothers continue to carry their child’s cells within their own tissue. You can read more about fetal microchimerism here.

Emerging research also suggests that pregnancy may influence a parent’s brain in lasting ways. Some studies have found that neurogenesis rapidly forms in the brains of fathers, post birth of their children, meaning that a child's introduction into the world is a powerful one that forever changes the neurons in a parent's brain. Death doesn't erase these brain changes. An accessible overview of this research can be found here.

For some grieving parents, this knowledge offers a quiet steadiness. The bond was never limited to just an emotional one. It was biological. Physical. Cellular. Even if memories shift over time, the attachment is not dependent on perfect recall. It is woven into your body, your identity, and your story.

Grief evolves. Memory softens. Love remains.

Your love does not depend on flawless memory. It has already changed you in ways that cannot be undone.

Support for Perinatal Trauma and Child Loss

If you are carrying perinatal trauma, including miscarriage, stillbirth, infant loss, traumatic birth, or complicated grief, you are not alone.

I am honored to be presenting at an upcoming virtual retreat focused on birth trauma healing. This retreat is designed specifically for Christian women navigating perinatal trauma and child loss, while offering clinically grounded, compassionate support that honors the complexity of your story.

I will be speaking on child loss, grief, and continuing bonds, including the fear of forgetting and how attachment shapes healing after loss.

You can learn more and register here:https://www.birthtraumastories.com/home/bts-virtual-retreat-signup-form

If this space feels aligned for you, I would be honored for you to join us.

A Gentle Invitation

And if you are a grieving parent in Edmond, Oklahoma, or throughout the states of Oklahoma and Vermont, struggling with the fear of forgetting after child loss, you do not have to carry that fear alone. Therapy with me can provide a steady space to speak your child’s name, explore continuing bonds in grief, and sort through the complicated mix of love, longing, anger, and sorrow. If you'd like to work together in this capacity, schedule a consultation here.

With me, there is no timeline you must follow. In my office, there is no expectation that you will “get over” this. Together, we can honor the bond you have while helping you live in a way that feels grounded and supported.

Your child’s memory does not depend on constant vigilance. It lives in you, in a full and thriving life, even after you've survived the unimaginable.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourselves,

Megan