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 →