Have a seat on my porch and share in the chaos that is this magical life.

Exploring grief two years later.

“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill, of things unknown, but longed for still, and his tune is heard on the distant hill, for the...

I’l preface this by stating we’ve only shared one Thanksgiving with my in-laws. It was our first Thanksgiving as a married couple and the la

"These performances didn’t come with fame and money, though. There was only grief."

"... where does one go when there's no going back but forward feels too heavy a load to carry."

I wrote this after a wave of immense sadness hit me on Juneteenth. Today we celebrate freedom That's what the white folks think In...

Reflections on the time we don't take.

“I’m fine”… Shhh, you don’t mean that - my heart interjects “No, really, I’m fine” … I protest Why do you lie to them - my heart asks My...

I've noticed a lot of discussions on family trauma center around the immediate family (parents, siblings, and possibly grandparents...

Another trip around the sun.  While I’m not hitting one of the big zero birthdays (I’ve got two years to go before the big 4-0), this...

I wrote this in December of 2020 as part of a writing activity that a then acquaintance, now friend, had come up with. As I move through...

“I feel like there are three versions of myself attempting to coexist in this one body.” Before the holidays my therapist gave me an...

I enjoy gardening. My favorite part of it isn’t the harvest, but the planting or the act of creating a space for roots to grow.  As I’ve...

I want to talk about the day my mother died. It was a Friday.  It was supposed to be the weekend that ushered in a summer of fun.  I...

My mother's death broke me. I feel like I'm saying that a lot, but it's true. I've been through the wringer in life and those previous...

My childhood home was the epitome of what happens in this house stays in this house. We didn't discuss my father's affairs, resentment,...

A couple of weeks ago, I downloaded the Finch app. It's like a Tamagotchi for mental health. I put in a series of goals that I check...

My mom is dead. She died in July. I mailed her a copy of An Obituary for the Living, but she never opened it. She was probably too sick...

“Who taught you to hate the texture of your hair? Who taught you to hate the color of your skin? To such extent you bleach, to get like...