There's something magickal that happens when voices come together on the page. Each story carries its own rhythm, its own history, its own heartbeat and yet, when gathered alongside others, those voices form something far greater than the sum of their parts. This is the quiet alchemy of anthologies.

As the compiler of On the Other Side of Grief, I have the privilege and honor of gathering a powerful collection of voices for the first volume in the On the Other Side book series. This project was born through deep reflection, divine guidance, and years of walking with grief and its many forms. There are moments when the universe whispers so softly you almost miss it and then there are moments when it places the signs in front of you everywhere you turn, refusing to be igno

August has arrived with its golden light, its full blooms, its heavy-limbed trees and late afternoon heat. There’s a fullness in the air; a richness that only late summer can bring. This is the season where time feels like it stretches, asking us to slow down and really live in the moment. It’s still very much summer, yet there’s a quiet stirring, a subtle shift that begins to pull us toward what’s next.

Grief doesn’t come with a roadmap. It doesn't follow a schedule or fit neatly into the five stages we often hear about. It can feel like walking through a thick fog; sometimes you're moving forward, other times you're standing still, or suddenly swept back into a tsunami of pain you thought you’d already passed. This is the reality of grief, it is not linear.

Body shame, I've learned, isn't a problem you solve once and never face again. It's more like a recurring visitor that shows up at different life stages, wearing different masks. I fought those battles and won. I did the therapy, the inner work, the painful process of learning to see my body as something other than an enemy. For years, I lived in that hard-earned peace, believing I had finally conquered this particular demon. But trauma has a way of reshuffling everything you