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I felt special wearing such beautiful pieces given to me by a man I loved and respected deeply. I don't wear them anymore. Sept. 4, 2025...

Letting go of a career, a man, and a future I thought was mine.

Life keeps handing me books to close. Some I finish with care, others slam shut without warning. And, what if, endings are invitations to something better.

The wreckage didn’t end me. It revealed the road home.

The future burns bright—and I am its flame.

Well, shit. This was terrible.

Coming home to yourself isn’t always easy. But it is possible—bit by bit, light by light.

But even after years of healing, I still mistook toxicity for depth, and manipulation for love, until I finally stopped gaslighting myself and believed me

Who are you when you’re not defending, proving, protecting, surviving? I asked myself that question after the store was gone. After the adrenaline had nowhere left to go. After the avalanche ended, and I was still alive. My worth, stitched into my work. My energy, powered by pressure. My direction, determined by demand. For so long, I was driven by crisis. Crisis made decisions easy. Crisis gave me purpose. Crisis kept me upright. But crisis wasn’t the only thing that moved m

Sick days are the worst.

Just days after my dad died, and days before my reality exploded, I sent him a message soaked in love and longing. I never imagined the truths I was about to uncover would change everything.

I swallowed silence instead of screaming, wrote truth instead of texting, chose no contact while my whole nervous system ached for just one drop of the poison I finally stopped calling love.

No contact is really hard, especially when the person you cut off was your number one person. This is my story of living through it.

Grief is lonely, even when I’m not alone. My heart keeps beating, even when it aches. Even when it’s tired of aching.