The Year I Came Back to Myself
This Thanksgiving, I realized I’m not the woman I was last year. Somewhere between grief, rebuilding, and choosing myself one small moment at a time… I came back to myself.
The Words We Don’t Mean to Teach
She tried on my heels this morning, and I smiled — but something inside me ached. Because I realized she isn’t just watching what I say. She’s watching how I see myself.
We can spend years trying to protect our children from the wounds we carry, but they still learn from what we don’t say — the sighs at the mirror, the hesitation before a photo, the quiet comparisons we think we’re hiding.
This essay is about what happens when we stop hiding and start healing out loud.
Almost, and Still Enough
My poems Smaller, Even Then, and Choosing Me were selected as finalists for the 2026 River Styx Contest, one of those journals I’ve admired quietly for years.
The email reminded me that recognition doesn’t always come loud or public. Sometimes it arrives softly as a quiet affirmation that the work is being read, and felt.
Write Anyway
Writing is how we remember, resist, and refuse erasure. When the world silences voices again, the brave act is simple: write anyway.