Thank you for honouring yourself with grace; for sharing vanishing acts; and for holding memories of past lives tight enough to help heal us ghost girls. Exquisite.
Shame lives in dark corners; telling the truth sets you free.
Kelly, I remain convinced we met in the midst of our own storms. You were not born without a soul but, like me and many others the systemic abuse could not contain, we learned to let our souls fly ahead of us, our bodies finally catching up until we could stand at the void humming along to Deat Cab for Cuties’ “Where Soul Meets Body.” Maybe when you applied defiance to your previously unshorn hair, your soul got to breathe and settle upon you so that you recognized the girl in the mirror as worth knowing. You know now! And it’s not easily gained wisdom to come to know one’s embodied soul. Your writing flows beautifully like living images connecting the dots—for you, for all of us rebellious wanderers who knew the system(s) was wrong.
Kelly, I did not just read this essay, I was there with you every step of the way. Not all the same experiences, but the same feeling of needing to escape a cage that we had no choice but to run from. It looked reckless and dangerous and it was, but it was also a form of salvation - a necessary rebellion from the chains that were never meant to bind us. Your soul was and is alive and kicking!
I hardly know what to say. I'm still out of breath from running with you at that pace. Whew, you ran a Hero's Journey, and shared it's intensity. I read this one angry, heartbroken, cheering and charged with hope. I feel more brave.🔥
This was so good. I relived your teens and mine at the same time as I read it. Similar but not the same. Different but not so different your experience is a continent away. What a long strange trip growing up a 2x2 has been.
Dear Kelly, I love the fast paced, pounding rhythm of your writing. I want to thank you for all you share. I know that you were a teenage mom and took drugs and I had a teenage mom who was a drug addict. Beyond those similarities the two of you have nothing in common, but just those alone have been both healing and triggering (at times). I can so easily read your words and have compassion for you and I transfer that compassion on to my own mother— who I dare not compare you to— only to say, your words help me to soften my heart as I process the pain she caused. Your stories diverge— but starting from the beginning instead of the end, through your story, has helped me to understand her a tiny bit more. Thank you.
Your words land deep. Thank you for meeting my story with your own, and for letting compassion move through you instead of shutting the door on what hurts. That’s courage. I’m grateful you’re here.
Brilliant writing. Straight from the heart. I could see and feel everything like I was inside of a movie, or inside of a moving painting. My own experience as a teen was different than yours, but similar in that I knew I was not a "normal" kid, and I needed to find my own path and to find my own friends who "got" me. Thank you so much for sharing this.
I've got no words for how good this is. Great this is. So alive, so alive.
Oh Abigail. You brought instant tears to my eyes. 🙏🏻Thank you. Hope it’s ok if I quote you! ❤️🔥
Agreed!
☺️thank you Victoria
I agree! So unapologetically alive!
Thank you Lila! 🌻
This piece buzzes with the energy of a dare at thirteen. You capture it here. I’m blown away. Thank you.
Oh I love that. I channeled her. 💜
Thank you for honouring yourself with grace; for sharing vanishing acts; and for holding memories of past lives tight enough to help heal us ghost girls. Exquisite.
Shame lives in dark corners; telling the truth sets you free.
Thank you for holding this with such presence and witness. To truth. To freedom. 🕯️
Kelly, I remain convinced we met in the midst of our own storms. You were not born without a soul but, like me and many others the systemic abuse could not contain, we learned to let our souls fly ahead of us, our bodies finally catching up until we could stand at the void humming along to Deat Cab for Cuties’ “Where Soul Meets Body.” Maybe when you applied defiance to your previously unshorn hair, your soul got to breathe and settle upon you so that you recognized the girl in the mirror as worth knowing. You know now! And it’s not easily gained wisdom to come to know one’s embodied soul. Your writing flows beautifully like living images connecting the dots—for you, for all of us rebellious wanderers who knew the system(s) was wrong.
Heartline. Kindred souls. It feels so good to find each other now - embodied souls. 💜💜💜
Soul companions are so affirming to find. I imagine souls in a pre-life huddle, laughing and making bets on who will recognize whom first.
Haaa I love that.
Kelly, I did not just read this essay, I was there with you every step of the way. Not all the same experiences, but the same feeling of needing to escape a cage that we had no choice but to run from. It looked reckless and dangerous and it was, but it was also a form of salvation - a necessary rebellion from the chains that were never meant to bind us. Your soul was and is alive and kicking!
Thank you, Judith! I think this may be a universal experience to many teen girls. Many don’t make it through that danger…
Magnificent—full of power, presence, defiance and hard-won beauty.
🐎🔥🦋thank you Rona. I’m so thrilled you read it and thought to restack it. The girl I was is rising.
I hardly know what to say. I'm still out of breath from running with you at that pace. Whew, you ran a Hero's Journey, and shared it's intensity. I read this one angry, heartbroken, cheering and charged with hope. I feel more brave.🔥
I’m so glad it made you brave. Yes to brave. To standing up. Thank you Laury!
This was so good. I relived your teens and mine at the same time as I read it. Similar but not the same. Different but not so different your experience is a continent away. What a long strange trip growing up a 2x2 has been.
💜thank you. Truly bizarre.
Hello Kelly, Thanks for tagging me so I didn't miss this one. I was pulled in from the start — a sister story. Beautifully written.
I’m so grateful for you.
Dear Kelly, I love the fast paced, pounding rhythm of your writing. I want to thank you for all you share. I know that you were a teenage mom and took drugs and I had a teenage mom who was a drug addict. Beyond those similarities the two of you have nothing in common, but just those alone have been both healing and triggering (at times). I can so easily read your words and have compassion for you and I transfer that compassion on to my own mother— who I dare not compare you to— only to say, your words help me to soften my heart as I process the pain she caused. Your stories diverge— but starting from the beginning instead of the end, through your story, has helped me to understand her a tiny bit more. Thank you.
Your words land deep. Thank you for meeting my story with your own, and for letting compassion move through you instead of shutting the door on what hurts. That’s courage. I’m grateful you’re here.
“I hadn’t run because I was lost. I’d run because even as a kid, soaked in rain and fury, I already knew what wasn’t mine to carry.”
Incredible.
Thank you Jazmine! 🌻
Gorgeous. Compelling. Brings me into relationship with my own adolescent rebellious self. Thanks for this!
How did I miss this the first time? Amazing. "A flicker of tenderness inside a storm of chaos." Different story, same feelings.
❤️ thank you for noticing xo
Brilliant writing. Straight from the heart. I could see and feel everything like I was inside of a movie, or inside of a moving painting. My own experience as a teen was different than yours, but similar in that I knew I was not a "normal" kid, and I needed to find my own path and to find my own friends who "got" me. Thank you so much for sharing this.
Thank you Sarah for reading and sharing your experience here. ❤️