It all started with a blank page and a very broken heart.
On some of my darkest days, when words seemed too heavy to speak, I found myself drawn to my journal. When the nights came upon me and the tears wouldn't stop falling and I felt the weight of sleep on my shoulders, I would sit down with a pen in hand, unsure of what to write, and then, slowly, the weight of my grief would start to spill onto the page. Writing gave me a way to breathe when life felt suffocating. It wasn’t about perfect sentences or finding solutions—it was about survival. Each word was a small release, a tissue for the tears that fell and a way to make some sense of the loss that had turned my world upside down.
What began as raw, unfiltered emotion eventually became a form of connection. As I poured out my pain, my memories, and even my moments of hope, I realized something: others felt this too. They just didn’t have the words. As time moved forward and the reality that grief was never going to "go away" and that it would be a part of my life and who I am forever, I pondered how could I use this grief to help others. That’s when the idea for my greeting card business was born. I didn’t want to just speak about grief; I wanted to give people a voice when they couldn't find the right words. I wanted to offer something that said, I see you. I hear you. I knew words mattered. I knew that when words fail, cards speak. Thus, Butterflies + Halos was born and it is magical.
Journaling became more than a coping mechanism—it became my mission. I found solace in the quiet moments of writing, and before long, I knew my journal entries could be a profound story of resilience. Those stories eventually became the foundation for my book, Chapters of a Resilient Heart. What started as a personal journey became something much bigger, a way to offer support and understanding to others on a similar path. My book wasn't ever meant to be a self-help book on how to grieve, it was to be exactly what it became, a book about grief and how I navigated the grief journey.
And as my journey has been unfolding in the last 18 years, I realized my mission isn't complete. There is more to give, more to share, more to learn. That’s why I decided to deepen my understanding and take classes to become a certified grief coach. It has felt like a natural step forward—turning the healing I’d found in writing into something tangible I could share one-on-one with those who are struggling. I’ve always believed that grief isn’t something we overcome, but something we learn to carry with grace. And now, I’m working toward helping others navigate their own path, just as I’ve navigated mine.
Without realizing it, writing had transformed my grief into something that could help others heal too. Now, through both words and coaching, I’m turning that mission into action.
1 comment
Very well written, Angie (you should write a book:). I think being a grief coach is the perfect fit for you.