When DeAndree was murdered in July of 2020, I felt immense and persistent survivor’s remorse. I felt helpless and powerless. Although we were separated at the time of his death, I felt I wasn’t whole without him.
While he was resting peacefully and still is, I had to continue living when I didn’t want to. When it ached the worst. When the pain was the most unbearable and unimaginable.
I am here to assure you that God is a comforter. I thank God for His mercy, love, strength, and support.
For my fellow grief warriors, I hear you. I see you. I am you.
🤍
“I was blinded by survivor’s remorse, I was supposed to build.
Be patient. Take up space. Let your journey hold your hand while you heal yourself. To heal is to touch with love that which we previously touched with fear. Confront your grief, don’t run from it.
Thank you so much for your raw transparency regarding your grief journey. Thank you for creating a safe space of vulnerability that weaves together an essential fabric. That very fabric of vulnerability is being used as a safety net of hope for others. Your podcast is mending hearts and restoring hope. Including mine. Very much so.
Your bravery is inspiring. The bravery of all your featured guests is truly a blessing. I was especially touched by the episode with Stephen Colbert and President Joe Biden.
May your journey with grief continue to inspire and bless us all as we journey on. And yes, your Mom, Dad, and brother would be incredibly proud. I sure as hell am!
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6 NIV
Move on. Not because it is expected of you but when you are ready. There is no timestamp on healing, no timestamp on grief, and no timestamp on recovery. It isn’t linear.
For over three years, I’ve mourned the complicated loss not only of my significant other but also for the life and future we had planned.
There comes a moment when you must let go and move on for your peace. For your mental stability. For yourself.
There comes a moment when the loss is no longer your identity but embedded in your history.
There comes a moment when the fire that once burned you becomes the very flame that ignites you.
And finally, there comes a moment when your heart looks back with gratitude but looks forward with hope.
Thank you, because while I appreciate the sentiment, I’m tired of hearing, “He’s in a better place.” I know that, but it’s also comforting to hear how unfair it all is.
🩷 Personalised texts all year long 🩷 Messages based on relationship, cause of. death & more 🩷 Texts for friends who want to support you 🩷 Key date reminders and holiday support
“Free grief support to your phone. Personalized based on your loss. We’ll send you thoughtful, personalised tips and suggestions all year long. Texts are curated by experts and customized based on your loss. Because nobody should have to grieve alone.” 🫂
Becoming a widow in 2020 at just 29 years old shocked me to my core. Brought me to my knees in disbelief. To lose someone you were with for 15 years to murder, unexpectedly, was devastating, to say the least.
Because of his popularity, impact, and the circumstances surrounding his death, I opted to grieve and honor his legacy privately. I opted not to publicly disclose any details, nor speak about his murder out of respect for his family, my mental stability, and most importantly, him.
You see, when you’re with someone for that long, on bad terms or not, your loyalty and love run thick. Well, it should. I used to feel guilty and awful about privately remembering and honoring him. But I don’t anymore. As I began to heal, I learned that I could grieve and remember him privately and in a sacred regard. Without the eyes of social media or the news / blogs asking for an interview. I learned that it is okay to protect and tuck myself into a safe place to grieve.
Quite honestly, after almost three years, some days, it’s still too painful to bear. It’s still too raw and emotionally challenging to comprehend. This year is particularly rough because he would be graduating from law school (University of Michigan Law) and getting ready to enter into a new exciting chapter. But that’s not reality-based anymore. He transitioned to be with our Holy Father and is resting peacefully. He earned that.
As I painfully yet ambitiously move through my journey of grief, there is one component in particular that has been my saving grace, Untangle Grief.
Untangle Grief is a community, a family of grievers who support each other, uplift each other, inspire each other, and often time pick each other up. It’s a safe space to expose your grief wounds, let out your sadness, and encourage the people walking the same journey as you.
Untangle Grief has been many times my lifeline. With this community, I’m learning how to carry the grief and not let it consume me. I’m learning that it is okay not to be okay. Most importantly, I’m learning that I’m not alone in my bereavement. That, that is what keeps me going.
Join us. Join us as we lift, encourage, support, and inspire one another. You are not alone, and neither am I.
🫠 Random dream about the rapper Gunna. 😭 Left work early, major grief melt-down. 👑 Momma talked me off the ledge. 😋 Ate homemade chili in my HRC mug. 🤮 Dog puked and tried to eat it. 🥰 Watched Chicago P.D. 🙌🏼 Spent quality time with God.
Father God, continue to heal me. Continue to allow me to sit with these uncomfortable emotions, have these difficult conversations and sort through these painful feelings. Continue to force me to sit in my grief and loss because I ran from it for far too long. Continue to use my solitude for my healing. And Father, continue to use me to serve, inspire and help your people. May your will and only your will manifest and be done.
In Jesus’s sovereign, righteous and holy name, Amen.
Sonique Louise Foundation 