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Wish sports loved me a fraction of the amount I love it. Wish the player who got me into hockey wasn’t stepping foot in the White House and laughing at the women’s team. Wish the player whose home runs I scream over in my living wasn’t a known homophobe. Wish I knew how to align me and my identity with these sports I love; baseball my whole life, hockey for only a few years.

I know this seems like a non-issue to a lot. That sports aren’t important just stop watching, or there’s other leagues to follow. And I love the PWHL, delight in having season tickets to the Torrent, love watching the US women’s hockey team. But man, it still just… hurts isn’t the right word because I’m not really surprised. I’m just so tired.

#missing my dad #he would know how to talk to be about all this #embarrassed by how upset I am about the men’s team tbh it’s not actually a surprise #guess I just wanted to… enjoy not really knowing #sports sports sports

Cw: Grief

Screaming into the void because my heart isn’t just broken it’s shattered. 😭💔

#cw grief #my heart is shattered #screaming into the void #apparently my grief is inconvenient for some people #angry #heartbroken #missing my mom #today is her birthday #missing my dad #grief fucking sucks #dealing with grief #dealing with loss

Credit to @cbeebies on instagram

Father’s Day can be difficult for people for different reasons.

It’s nearly 25 years since I lost mine. It seems to be harder now than when I was younger 💔

If you’re finding it a struggle today, you’re not alone.

Be gentle on yourself

#fathers day #dealing with grief #dead dad stuff #missing my dad #kindness #self care #Instagram #dead dad club #sudden death #prolonged grief disorder #highly sensitive person #always him #daddy issues #youngest child

It would have been my dad’s 55th birthday today.

He died when I was 14. At 30, I still miss him and grieve with every part of who I am. He’ll never see what his kids have done, what we’re doing now, or who we’re becoming. And the thing about losing someone that young is… people stop talking about it. After a year, two, five, ten. The world assumes you’re “okay.”

But grief doesn’t vanish. It shifts. It hides. It resurfaces in odd ways. In songs, seasons, stories, and sometimes in things you write when you’re just trying to feel something safe.

I don’t always know how to talk about it. So instead, I write. There are chapters in ADOTS that are specifically about him. Why? Because, it was the only way to feel everything that I needed to, and those four chapters, I wrote in April.

Writing has become the place I go when the weight of missing him crushes me. It’s where I put everything I didn’t get to say, and everything I still carry.

Happy birthday, Daddy.

December 5th, 1970 — my father was born. April 16th, 2010 — five children lost their father.