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This was me, before I knew what I was doing.

I've been given the gift of a mom.

Sometimes the best laid plans get rerouted.

I have an update no one asked for but everyone deserves.

I couldn't sleep last night and that turned out to be the best thing.

In between love and harm I found the gray.

I’ve written a lot about what happened in the relationship I was in—the one that exploded into a web of lies, manipulation, and psychological and emotional abuse six days after my dad died. I’ve written about the war I didn’t know I was fighting. The poison he brought to the party. How much I loved him and his dogs. The pain of being replaced so quickly. The expensive gifts. The moment of discovery. All of that writing helped me process the what the fuck happened and how will

Everyone trusted him. That was the point.

The story I tell about myself has never included the full picture.

I didn’t expect cleaning out my closet to make me cry—but it did.

We have all heard of stalking other people but have you ever stalked yourself?

I thought I was showing up for yoga. Turns out, I was training for a fight.

For a long time, I believed love meant holding on, no matter the cost.

Sometimes the hardest thing to grieve isn’t the person—it’s the future you were quietly invited to believe in.

This isn’t about rehashing the past. It’s about understanding the pattern clearly.

I'm just over here being a mom. Apparently that is uncool.

I've learned some interesting things after six months of blogging.

This was unfamiliar terrain for my heart.

Something can look right and still feel wrong. That took me a long time to learn.

At first I felt weird about being drawn to things in this show. Then I realized it was helpful information.