<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[People We Collect]]></title><description><![CDATA[People We Collect]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/blog</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Sat, 03 Oct 2026 13:21:47 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[To the Family and Friends Who Didn’t Know How to Love a Widow]]></title><description><![CDATA[There are some things people never say out loud. Instead, they say them with distance. With silence. With judgment. With invitations that stop coming. With conversations that happen without you. With support that quietly expires. I became a widow on June 27, 2025. What I wasn’t prepared for was becoming an inconvenience. Not because I was angry. Not because I expected everyone to carry my grief. But because my grief didn’t fit the timeline everyone else had imagined. Then something happened...]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/to-the-family-and-friends-who-didn-t-know-how-to-love-a-widow</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a85fe8cc6c8f2fd385ec7ce</guid><pubDate>Tue, 22 Sep 2026 16:00:17 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Grieving Wrong]]></title><description><![CDATA[There are days when the loneliness of this life is almost unbearable.]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/grieving-wrong</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a9618ec0125627071d028c4</guid><pubDate>Thu, 17 Sep 2026 21:13:15 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[I Have to Have a Place to Put My Grief]]></title><description><![CDATA[I have to have a place to put my grief. Because grief doesn’t disappear just because the funeral is over. It doesn’t vanish because enough months have passed. It doesn’t politely pack itself into a box so you can get back to work, raise your kids, pay the bills, answer the texts, show up to the games, smile for the pictures, and keep moving. It has to go somewhere. So I’ve chosen places to put mine. I started a business. I started writing. I started a podcast. I started this blog. And maybe...]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/i-have-to-have-a-place-to-put-my-grief</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aa9871872df054056863a19</guid><pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2026 17:57:52 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/11062b_f5c47c86872a427aa1d0ac1761968ffd~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Consistency Is a Love Language]]></title><description><![CDATA[People tell me all the time how lucky I am to have such a great support system. And I know what they mean. I do have people. I have friends who show up. People who check in. People who help. People who love me. People who have carried pieces of this life when I absolutely could not carry all of it myself. I am grateful for them. But there is something people don’t understand about support after loss. Support can exist and still feel unstable. Because what happens when the support system is...]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/consistency-is-a-love-language</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aa78857b75fbdc9b1834b5c</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 05:41:46 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/11062b_eac89e192c564cfc86002c9f86e42b10~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The People I Was Looking For Before I Knew I Was Collecting Them]]></title><description><![CDATA[Originally written before my life changed. Revisited from the other side of everything I thought I knew. Good friends are like fuel for the soul. I wrote some version of that sentence years ago, before I understood just how much those words would eventually mean to me. Before grief. Before becoming a widow. Before losing a career I thought would remain part of my identity. Before lawsuits, financial uncertainty, reinvention, rebuilding, Broken Arrow Dancewear, and The People We Collect....]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/the-people-i-was-looking-for-before-i-knew-i-was-collecting-them</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a86002d9dcbf56432d48d49</guid><pubDate>Tue, 25 Aug 2026 16:00:10 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[I Used to Think Work-Life Balance Was About Managing My Time]]></title><description><![CDATA[I used to think work-life balance was a scheduling problem. If I could just manage my time better, delegate more, create stronger boundaries, organize the calendar, meal prep, exercise, answer the emails, remember Spirit Week, make it to practice, build a career, be a present wife, maintain friendships, and somehow squeeze in a little self-care... Then maybe I could finally achieve it. Balance. I wrote about it before. Before my life changed. Before grief completely rearranged my...]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/i-used-to-think-work-life-balance-was-about-managing-my-time</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a8602459dcbf56432d49159</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2026 19:23:23 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/11062b_1444be13585e42fb80ded080b6765dea~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Welcome to The People We Collect: Where the Story Begins]]></title><description><![CDATA[Some of you have been here since Mike passed. Some of you found me through dance. Some through Broken Arrow. Some through the law enforcement community. Some because our kids crossed paths, our careers crossed paths, or life simply put us in the same place at the same time. And somewhere along the way, I realized something: We are all here because of the people we collect. The ones who stay for decades. The ones who are only meant for a season. The ones who break our hearts. The ones who help...]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/welcome-to-the-people-we-collect-where-the-story-begins</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a85fad59dcbf56432d482ac</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2026 18:54:42 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Where This Story Really Begins]]></title><description><![CDATA[If you found your way here because of grief, loss, widowhood, rebuilding, or learning how to love a life you never expected to be living, you should probably know something first: My story didn’t begin when my husband died. And neither did I. Before grief became one of the loudest parts of my story, there was already an entire woman here. A police officer.A wife.A mother.A woman trying to build a career in spaces that weren't always designed for her.A woman with opinions, ambition,...]]></description><link>https://www.thepeoplewecollect.com/post/where-this-story-really-begins</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a847f756f644c8dfb48a999</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Aug 2026 15:52:52 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>Andrea Alexander</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>