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Building Flowers in a Burning Room.
My kitchen table is covered in tiny plastic petals.Yellow, blush, ivory, sage.My hands are snapping together LEGO flowers while my life feels like it’s quietly imploding in the background. The world I live inside right now is loud.Emotionally unpredictable.Heavy with tension.Full of things that make my nervous system brace itself even when nothing is “happening.”…
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A Level of Irony I Couldn’t Make Up if I Tried.
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! This is one of the gifts my husband got me. You know… me living in the soft-launch home version of Gilead. Gilead the prequel. I laughed so hard and he didn’t know why. Of course I followed it with “Thank You.” He said, “well we never finished the show…
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Small Voices, Big Reminders
I was organizing the house for Christmas — the quiet, in-between kind of organizing where nothing is actually finished, but everything feels like it’s slowly finding its place again. Half-sorted toys sat in wild piles that became more chaotic as the boys dug through them. The boys were doing their usual parallel play, where they…
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Healing, But Make It Both Witchy and Well-Researched
For a long time, I thought I had “outgrown” my old interests. The books on witchcraft. The obsession with psychology and neuroscience. The quiet rituals that helped me regulate my nervous system before I had language for what that even meant. Somewhere along the way, curiosity got labeled as impractical, intuition as silly, and rest…
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Love, Without the Game
Last night, my husband was on a solo trip… My nervous system was able to relax, even the boys were able to relax. I sat up thinking about my non-negotiables for myself. Coincidentally, yesterday, I picked up a sticker out of my prize box for my students. I had just gotten some new ones and…
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How Light Escapes
It was evening, standing over the stove, like she did day after day. She felt it first as a crack— a hairline fracture, then something spreading beneath the surface. Her life had grown too small, her light too big. At first she thought it was a broken heart. Then she called it grief— mourning a…
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Without Apology
I deserve the world. I am not too much— not too loud, not too demanding, not too opinionated. I think with my heart. I live in color. I want to be free. I want to use my voice. I exist— without apology, without shrinking, without asking permission. I am not too much.
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You thought you could Dim me- a poem
First of all, I have never written poetry. Never. Last night as I was drifting off to sleep o started saying these lines and I knew I’d have to sit up and write them down before full falling asleep otherwise they’d be gone forever. this morning I woke and finished the last stanza. You Thought…
Wild & Rooted 