Homebody & Heart

Holding space for someone you love

Someone I love is standing at the edge of a lot of unknowns right now.

She’s far away — physically and emotionally — and moving through decisions that feel heavy and personal and not mine to make. There are conversations she still has to have, paths she hasn’t chosen yet, and a future that doesn’t feel settled.

And I’m realizing how uncomfortable it is to love someone through something you can’t fix.

I don’t have advice that would make this easier. I don’t have words that would untangle the situation or make the uncertainty disappear. What I do have is the desire to show up with care, even when I don’t fully understand the shape of her grief or fear.

That’s been humbling.

Supporting someone doesn’t always mean agreeing with them. Sometimes it means sitting quietly beside them, holding space for feelings you wouldn’t choose yourself, and trusting that they’ll find their way — even if it doesn’t look like what you imagined for them.

Being far away makes this harder. I can’t drop off a meal or sit on the couch with her. I can’t read the room or catch the small cues that tell you what someone needs. All I can do is listen, remind her she’s not alone, and resist the urge to steer the outcome.

There’s a version of love that wants to rescue.
And then there’s a quieter version that stays.

I’m learning that staying — without fixing, without pushing, without making it about my own discomfort — is sometimes the most supportive thing I can do.

I don’t know how this chapter ends.
I just know that she’s loved through it.

And for now, that feels like enough.