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I never thought I would be someone who struggled with PTSD. Even after the accident—the one that took my husband’s life and my left leg—I didn’t put a name to what I was feeling. I told myself I was just grieving. That what I was experiencing was normal after something so devastating. And in many ways, it was. But there was something more happening beneath the surface that I didn’t yet understand. I was overwhelmed in ways I couldn’t explain. My body would react before my min

I used to think I knew what strength looked like. I thought it meant pushing through, staying positive, keeping it together no matter what. But when all this grief and trauma entered my life over and over, those old definitions shattered. Suddenly, I was face to face with a version of myself I barely recognized — tired, confused, emotional, and, honestly, lost. I’ve learned (and am still learning) that being realistic with myself in times like these is one of the kindest thin

There was a time when my life felt complete — filled with love, lot of laughter, and the simple joy of sharing each day with my soul mate...