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After the Rain
In the midst of the storm, we seek shelter. Well…most of us. I remember as a child when there was a tornado warning. My mom was adamant that we stay away from the windows. Me? I was waiting to see it. I’ve always been fascinated by tornadoes, twisters, hurricanes, and storms. To this day, Twister remains one of my favorite movies. Maybe it was because chaos already felt familiar. Maybe the wreckage was something I understood long before I had the words to explain it. Because if I’m honest, that’s what my insides often felt like. Torn apart by things that entered my life so quickly I didn’t have time to catch…
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Comfort Can Make Cages Feel Like Home
For the longest time, I only attached grief to death. Funerals. Obituaries. Permanent goodbyes. But nobody really talks about the grief that comes with losing living things…friendships, relationships, jobs, businesses, routines, versions of yourself you swore would always exist. Grief doesn’t only show up at gravesites. Sometimes it shows up in quiet transitions. In unanswered calls. In empty routines. In finally getting what you asked for only to realize you still mourn what had to end for it to arrive. And that’s the space I find myself in now. Something ended that I thought I was ready to let go of. I prayed for change. Asked for movement. Wanted different.…
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Still People Pleasing?!
People pleasing at its core is not about being nice. It’s not even really about other people. It’s about managing other people’s emotional states so you can feel safe. Read that again. It’s a regulation strategy. A way of controlling the environment so that conflict doesn’t erupt, disappointment doesn’t land, anger doesn’t get directed at you. It’s a constant low-grade monitoring of the room…reading faces, adjusting tone, shrinking or expanding depending on what the moment seems to demand.
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She was Never the Problem
So she made herself smaller. Not because she was small…Never that! But because the people who were supposed to protect her taught her that shrinking was the price of staying safe. They loved her in ways that left marks.
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Mentally Overweight…The Book
She’s here. After six years. After doubt.After wrestling with myself.After questioning whether anyone even needed to hear from me again. For a long time, I convinced myself to stay quiet.I told myself people were fine without my words. But this was never about ego.It was about obedience.It was about the release God allowed me to experience… and the responsibility to share it. For many of us, we move through life on autopilot. Checking boxes.Reaching heights.Accomplishing goals. Trying to feel complete…while feeling overloaded and incomplete at the same time. I didn’t have language for the fog.For the overwhelm.For the emotional heaviness that followed me everywhere. I just kept adding more. More…
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WTFourty
I didn’t glide into 40—I crashed into it.And the first thing I whispered to myself was exactly that:WTFourty… what is this? This wasn’t the version of 40 I imagined.I thought it would feel lighter… softer… more aligned.I thought I’d finally feel like a woman who understood her body, her needs, her boundaries, her peace. Instead, I walked into 40 and met a version of myself I didn’t recognize. My body felt foreign.My emotions lived at the surface.My anger was louder.My anxiety had its own pulse.My health shifted in ways that scared me.My routines—my work, my businesses, the parts of my life I used to manage with ease—felt heavy, unorganized, and…
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The Weight We Carry
There is a weight we carry that doesn’t show up in mirrors…but it shows up everywhere else. It shows up in our silence.In our tired smiles…In the emptiness of our eyes. In the way our shoulders stay tense even when we’re trying to rest.In the way we swallow what we should’ve screamed.In the way we keep showing up when nobody has shown up for us. Some of us learned young that life wasn’t waiting for our tears.So we stitched ourselves together with strength we didn’t choose…and kept moving like survival was our birthright. But here’s the truth I had to face…carrying everything is not strength.Sometimes it’s punishment.Sometimes it’s habit.Sometimes it’s…
