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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…
