My name is Carley. I’m a social entrepreneur, CEO, biker, runner, swimmer, reader, writer and, as my friends say, an A+ Griever. I have never not been one to excel, after all. I desperately want to write about things related to business, social enterprise, and being a female founder. Instead, my life continues to suck, so I now write about death, divorce, dying, and grief, AKA the Big Sad. I am, as you can tell, a load of fun, a veritable bouquet of joy, the very life of the damn party.
My trauma, in brief, is: my mom died when I was 19 after a six-year battle with breast cancer, my first husband ghosted me (this will always one-up your Tinder stories) and shot me a text message that he was out when I was 29, and after clawing my way back from the brink, the love of my life, Jason, died in front of me when I was 32 on an otherwise ordinary, beautiful summer day.
This blog is an unfiltered, unedited, raw examination of my grief. Nothing I say here is a substitute for professional advice and should not be considered theologically sound or even factually correct. It is just me trying to make sense of a very broken world, clinging to my faith by my tiniest little toe, processing the most profound sorrow I’ve ever felt. I hope my words land with a few of you and make you feel seen and understood. For me, it’s an attempt at a spark of hope because, without that, I don’t know how I’ll carry on.
So join me. Grief is fucking heavy, let’s shoulder it together.
Big Arms Big issues 