There are people who change you quietly, piece by piece, and then there are the ones who grab your soul by the shoulders and remind you that you\u2019re still in there. You are those women for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve lost touch with so many people over the years\u2014some on purpose, some by accident\u2014but recently I reconnected with someone who has always held a sacred place in my heart. The thought of her missing from my life felt like reopening the wound left by my mother\u2019s passing. She\u2019s the spice in the comfort of a pumpkin-spice latte\u2014warm, grounding, and just a little wild. Her voice could melt tension right out of your shoulders, and she carries that rare northern grace: firm, kind, and impossible to forget.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She reminds me of the St. Lawrence River in summer\u2014the kind of emerald green that hides both calm and current. Beautiful, steady, but deeper than most realize. She splits her seasons between her northern home and one far to the south, chasing warmth but never straying far from the water that raised her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019d fallen out of touch, not because the love faded, but because sometimes life drags us into corners even the gentlest souls can\u2019t reach. On my sink sits a delicate teacup she once gave me, edged in gold and painted with forget-me-nots\u2014the same flowers my mother planted in her garden. I drop my rings in it morning and night while I wash my face or bathe Evelyn. That little cup holds my most precious things while I care for the most precious people. I never realized how much she reminded me of my mother\u2014the warmth, the red hair, the witchy light that feels like home. But she isn\u2019t my mother, and that\u2019s the beautiful part. Losing her would break me differently, but just as deeply.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On Sunday I finally messaged her. I still had her voicemail from 2021 and couldn\u2019t believe it had been that long. It felt like sending a message into the void, like texting my mother\u2019s old number just to feel close again. When her name appeared on my phone, my heart nearly stopped. My hands shook as I called back, and when she answered, \u201cHello, Bridgette?\u201d I burst into tears. For a second it was like my mother was calling me from the other side. All I could manage was, \u201cOh my goodness, I\u2019ve missed you so much.\u201d We both cried and laughed through it, two people finding each other again after years apart. I sat in the Target parking lot for forty-five minutes talking to her, my chest burning in the best way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Grief is alive. It waits quietly like a feral cat and curls up in your lap when you least expect it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
During our talk she mentioned the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. She said I\u2019m the Mother now and she\u2019s entering her Crone era. I told her she\u2019ll always be frozen in 2005 in my mind, but she\u2019s right. I\u2019m deep in the nurturing stage\u2014feeding, protecting, creating\u2014while she stands in wisdom, freedom, and clarity. Both of us doing it without our mothers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That conversation made me realize I\u2019ve built my own circle of women who each carry part of that cycle. Evelyn, my Maiden, with her snow-day giggles and honest heart, is the living spark of my mother\u2019s joy. Marisa, my fellow Mother, constantly reminds me that we are the true north for our children, especially in my lowest mothering moments. She wraps her family and mine in quilts, patience, and steady love. And my wise women\u2014Kathryn, Roxy, and Inge\u2014my beautiful not-crones (because I refuse to call you that). You are the ones whose hugs give everything and take nothing, whose eyes say \u201cI see you\u201d without a word.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was raised Catholic, but something deep in me has always known the pull of a coven. The grounding of earth, the release of fire, the breath of winter air that wakes your lungs, the music that shakes you until you finally let go\u2014that is divinity to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She told me she\u2019s coming back into life again, and I could feel it because I am too. The fog is lifting. Music speaks to me again. I lose track of my phone because I\u2019m too busy living. Evelyn\u2019s laughter fills the room like sunlight. My animals look at me not out of need but out of love. I see the love that\u2019s always surrounded me, and I\u2019m finally letting go of the love that never looked back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So this letter is for you\u2014the women who have lifted me, molded me, and loved me through every version of myself. My coven. My circle. My village. You have watched me process life in all its forms: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. You have hugged me through every one of them. You have healed me, whether you knew it or not, stitching me back together one conversation, one laugh, one tear at a time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When you have the right women, we heal each other. It\u2019s not a slight against men or what they bring; it\u2019s simply different. It\u2019s the release, the scream into the void that doesn\u2019t vanish but comes back as an echo when your sisters scream too. It\u2019s that wild, holy sound that says, \u201cI hear you. I\u2019ve been there. You\u2019re not alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And this coven of mine keeps growing. Sadia, Meg, Amanda, and Kayla\u2014you\u2019ve each found your way into this sacred circle in your own time. We can go years without talking or seeing each other, yet there\u2019s always space in my heart with your names carved in it. You are part of the thread that holds me together too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s what I imagine it to be. That\u2019s what I know it is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With every ounce of my heart,
Bridgette\ud83d\udd6f\ufe0f<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If this found its way to you, maybe you\u2019re part of the coven too.<\/em> \u2728<\/p>\n\n\n\n To the women who lift, laugh, cry, and show up in the quiet ways \u2014 thank you. You\u2019re proof that healing doesn\u2019t always happen in solitude. Sometimes it happens over coffee, in a text that arrives right when it\u2019s needed, or in a laugh that shakes the dust off your soul.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n If this letter made you think of your people \u2014 share it with them. Light a candle, send a message, remind someone that their magic matters.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There are people who change you quietly, piece by piece, and then there are the ones who grab your soul by the shoulders and remind you that you\u2019re still in there. You are those women for me. I\u2019ve lost touch with so many people over the years\u2014some on purpose, some by accident\u2014but recently I reconnected […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-212","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life-lately"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/212","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=212"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/212\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":214,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/212\/revisions\/214"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=212"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=212"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=212"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}