Yesterday was my birthday.
For the first time in years, it felt different, not because the sadness disappeared, but because it was no longer the only thing I could feel.
The ache that has followed me through birthdays didn’t begin with loss; it began long before my husband Chris died. It grew quietly as his drinking progressed, as he faded a little more from the life we once shared and planned. That ache was grief, and grief became the lens through which I saw myself – especially on days that were meant to feel joyful.
It took me a long time to understand that grief can live inside celebration.
Looking back at old journal entries, I can see it clearly now. For years, I titled those birthday pages raw, empty, sad, missing something. The pattern wasn’t about who was gone. It was about how I was meeting myself.
This year, I didn’t try to push any feeling away. I allowed sadness to sit beside love, laughter, and peace. And somewhere inside that mixture, I felt something I’ve never felt before, a heartfelt sense of radical acceptance.
It wasn’t an idea or a choice. It was a feeling.
It felt like my whole body exhaled, like stepping fully into the moment, not as I wished it were, but as it was.
Joy and sorrow intertwined.
Light and dark coexisting.
For the first time, I understood that acceptance isn’t a destination — it’s an experience of freedom
That moment of acceptance has helped me face another area of my life that has long been filled with fear, my relationship with money and security.
For years, I couldn’t even look at my financial self-care. It was the one topic I avoided, the place that stirred the most shame. If I’m honest, it wasn’t just about numbers. It was about worth.
When I trace it back, I can see the roots in childhood, hearing my parents argue about money, feeling small and unseen, believing that love and value were things I had to earn. Those emotions didn’t vanish as I grew up; they followed me into adulthood, into marriage, into loss.
I used to think my financial anxiety came from the chaos of addiction – the cost of rehab, the uncertainty, the years of instability.
But now I see it started long before.
And like grief, it needed compassion, not avoidance.
Recently, I did something I’d avoided for years: I opened a finance app that gathers all my bank accounts and pensions in one place. It sounds simple, but for me, it was huge.
For the first time, I looked at the full picture – not to judge, not to panic, but simply to see.
And something shifted.
It wasn’t the numbers that brought peace. It was the act of looking with kindness.
Because the moment we face what is, we begin to reclaim our power to change it. And for the very first time, I have a savings pot and it’s growing.
Self-compassion has taught me that courage and gentleness are not opposites. They work together.
You can’t heal what you won’t look at, and you can’t look without kindness.
And that’s where practice comes in.
When you feel anxious or uncertain, about your finances, or about anything at all, pause.
Take a slow breath in, placing a hand over your heart.
Feel the warmth of your hand, the flow of affection from your hand to your heart, the gentle rise of your chest.
As you exhale, imagine softening around the fear.
Whisper quietly to yourself:
“Whatever is here, I can face it.”
The more gently you meet yourself, the more safety you create from the inside out.
You can follow a full guided version of this practice with Amy, here.
This month, we’re focussing on Soothing Money & Security Stress, not about perfect budgets or tidy numbers, but about our money emotions, meeting fear with compassion and taking one brave, kind step at a time.
Radical acceptance, whether of grief, money, or ourselves, is what sets us free.
It doesn’t erase the ache; it simply allows love, joy, and peace to sit beside it.
And maybe that’s what healing really is.
Creating Safety as You Face What’s Stressing You. When money feels tight or uncertain, our nervous system reacts as if we’re in danger. We tense up, shut down, or avoid looking, not because we’re lazy, but because our bodies are trying to protect us.
This week, instead of turning away from what feels stressful, try meeting it with gentleness.
Soothing begins the moment we feel safe enough to see things clearly.
Here’s a simple way to begin:
If you can’t do it yet, that’s okay too. Show yourself compassion for how hard it feels.
And if it helps, ask a friend or someone you trust to sit beside you.
You’re not fixing anything, you’re creating safety inside yourself, so that change becomes possible.
Learning and practicing self-care and self-compassion is so much easier when you don’t have to do it alone. At Blossome, we walk this healing path together, supporting one another with kindness, encouragement, and community.
If you’d like to feel held and understood as you nurture your own recovery from the effects of loving someone with addiction, I invite you to join the Blossome Self-Care Community today.
Together, we make space for healing, growth, and a gentler way forward.
P.S. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Simply showing up is enough, and you’ll be welcomed, just as you are.
Kim Moore is the Founder of Blossome CIC. She lost her husband Chris to alcoholism in 2017. She faced a difficult journey while raising 2 children alone, with her family living on the opposite side of the world. Kim founded the Blossome Community and The Pathway to Peace healing journey so no one would have to feel alone while enduring the trauma of a loved one’s battle with alcoholism or addiction. She is also on a mission to end the generational cycle of alcoholism and addiction in families.
Kim lost her husband to alcohol dependency in 2017. She created the Blossome Community to help others enduring losing a loved one to alcoholism or addiction find a Pathway to Peace so they can let go of guilt/shame and live with self-compassion and joy.
Every Monday morning, start you week on a positive note with a Wonderful Week of Blossoming.
When subscribing to our mailer, you agree to the terms laid out in our privacy policy.