It’s taken me weeks to write this.
Not because I didn’t want to. But because my heart has been too full of sadness and too broken to find the words.
On 11 April 2025, my beloved cat, Kitt died. And with her went a part of my daily rhythm, my sense of comfort, and, for a while, a long while, my voice.
Kitt wasn’t just a pet. She was my empty nest shadow, my companion through midlife chaos, and my furry therapist on the hard days. She saw me in all my forms: exhausted, elated, anxious, inspired. She curled up beside me during the highs and lows of life, through lockdown and through post lockdown while I readjusted to life. She was my fur baby especially after my daughter left home four years ago.
When Kitt passed, the silence in the house was deafening. And so I fell silent too — here, on this blog, in my usual routines, in my sense of direction.
But I’m slowly coming back. Not the same, I never will be, but changed in a way that deserves to be witnessed.
Kitt’s death has sparked something in me. A need to re-evaluate. Reimagine. Rebrand, even. Life is too short to keep pretending we’re okay when we’re not, or to keep quiet when our stories might comfort someone else.
So, I’m returning to blogging not because I’ve “moved on”, I haven’t, but because I want to move forward. I want to talk more about what it means to grow through life, not just go through it. The messy, beautiful, transforming experience that midlife really is.
To anyone else grieving, whether it’s for a pet, a person or some other loss, I send you hugs.
