It took me a long time to call myself a writer. It felt presumptuous for a number of reasons, and I harbored a real imposter syndrome for a long time. Now that I write and have done for enough time that the writer identity feels fully integrated along with all my other selves, a rule... Continue Reading →
I call BS on anyone who asserts that we must abandon our personhood for motherhood. They can and should coexist.
Christmas 2019 was my first with two kids. My baby's first christmas. It was also my beloved grandmother's last. She passed away on Christmas night. I cherished my grandmother. She saw me and knew me in a way no one else did. As a small child, I was painfully shy and being around other adults... Continue Reading →
2009: I'm 25. I'm two years away from finishing my graduate degree in Social Work. I'm a year away from getting married. Six years away from having my first son. And countless soul-searching breakdowns away from figuring out why I am so dreadfully unhappy. I spend a lot of my time crying. A lot of... Continue Reading →
Wow. Did I really only post SEVEN times this year?!? I never wanted to be that person who started a blog and just let it disappear without explanation. But, man, did life demand my attention in 2019. So, what happened to my dedicated blogging? Short answer? Pregnancy, 4-year-old, book baby, human baby. Pregnancy This second... Continue Reading →
I am a HUGE fan of National Novel Writing Month, aka NaNoWriMo. Not only does it include an uplifting community and serve as a charming and satisfying way to kick off the holiday season, but I've become a better writer every time I've participated. Alas, it's not in the stars for me this year, as... Continue Reading →