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She said WHAT!!?? 😮

February 2019: I was naked on my floor, crying on all fours and contemplating the necessity of my own life while on the phone with someone I called my best friend: Begging to be seen, heard, supported...and I was met with: “Angela, get it together! You can’t be here for me. It’s always about YOU. Go get help! You need medication or something. Call me when you get your shit together. I can’t deal with you.”

And she hung up. Blocked me on Instagram. Deleted me from Facebook. And I have not spoken to her since.

Fuck, am I grateful for that loss.

When I lost my dad, my job, my dog, my relationship and the life I thought I wanted, the true breakdown came I had nothin Left to hold on to, when relationships couldn’t sustain my new state of being.

And I’m grateful.


Loss and pain made me recognize:

—WHO I wanted in my life

—HOW I wanted to connect

—WHAT reciprocity needed to look like.

I wanted ride or die emotional space holding accomplices. Not a judgmental peripheral ally who refused to get uncomfortable WITH me.

ALLY: someone who stands at the top of the hole you’re in looking down at you in judgement: “that looks like it sucks. Call me when you’re better”


ACCOMPLICE: “Bitch, I’m jumping down into the pit with you. Do you need snacks?”

I realized I wanted friends who could jump down in the emotional hole I was in, hold space for my pain (with snacks) and support me through my OWN process.

Holding space? WTF is that?

Holding, to embrace, to acknowledge the space one is in, free of judgement and shame, free of having to fix, just holding eachother in the ugly underbelly of pain.

Sit with it. Sit with one another. Hold it tight. Hold each other tight. Those, my friends, are the real ones.



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