Second Chance Under Streetlights is a moving story about rekindled love, family, and resilience. After a chance reunion during a citywide blackout, Lena and Marcus confront the misunderstanding that once separated them and decide to give their relationship another chance. As they build a life together and raise three children, their love is tested when their youngest son is born with serious physical disabilities. Through hospital stays, sacrifices, and the challenges of balancing family and marriage, they learn that true love grows stronger through hardship. In time, their perseverance leads to an unexpected miracle that brings renewed hope and joy to their family.

What does “having a wife” really mean in modern relationships? Cheating hinges on violating love rules.

A partner’s history is, by definition, behind the curtain. It shapes who she is, but it doesn’t dictate your present together.

Notation of a nightmare. Stalked, tormented, and afraid; I've had these for months. They come and they go, but the subject remains the same.

Never Leave a Knife In The Sink - remembering interactions that shaped my thoughts and feelings while living with a partner that wasn't the right one.

A Theological Reflection on Grief, Formation and the Dignity We Lose Together When the Center is Pushed Out and Extremes Take Center Stage.

Love is not a luxury... Love doesn't need to be coaxed from you with a fingertip sensation. Love creeps slowly.. but passionately. Love breaks through barriers untold by the greatest heralds. Continue Reading for more...

1. Wildfire I was loud in crowded rooms, but quiet where it mattered. I knew how to hold a drink, and a secret. Confidence was a costume, tailored sharp at the edges. Underneath it, I folded my doubts into tiny paper cranes, and swallowed them whole.

We have a history of deep rooted phobia for doctors and if you had an aunt with schizophrenia - it was something swept under the family rug. I learned I had feelings that were uncontrolled by the chemicals in my brain... Continue reading to learn more.

We need to help people. It all starts with a loud, outspoken voice echoing into an entity that feeds off of the voiceless. Can we agree that we aren't a risk to society so much as a risk to ourselves? Why is BPD so stigmatized? Continue reading to find out more...

A raw and deeply personal memoir written to my three sons: Isaiah, Elijah, and Zechariah. This piece reflects on motherhood, trauma, addiction, grief, accountability, spiritual awakening, and breaking generational cycles of abuse. It is an honest apology, a testament to healing, and a declaration that the cycle ends here. Centered on kindness, forgiveness, and self-worth, this story is about transformation, redemption, and the hope of rebuilding love with the men my boys have become.

This is slightly based on true story. Just a girl navigating her way through high school friends, love interests, enemies,etc.

Why Me is a deeply personal poem about surviving addiction while grieving the people who didn’t make it out. It explores the complicated emotions that come with recovery gratitude, survivor’s guilt, remembrance, and the quiet question that lingers: Why did I live when so many others didn’t? Through honest reflection, the poem speaks about walking the same roads, fighting the same battles, and witnessing addiction take loved ones one by one. Rather than placing blame or calling anyone weak, it emphasizes the truth that addiction is a painful and unfair struggle one that does not measure a person’s worth. At its heart, Why Me is not only about loss. It is about carrying the memories of those who passed, honoring their names, and choosing to live in a way that keeps their stories alive. It is about turning survivor’s guilt into purpose, and remembrance into light.

This piece is a reflection on grief, survivor’s guilt, and the weight of loving people who are no longer here. I write about what it feels like to carry loss not as memories of years, but as breaths that still feel heavy. It explores addiction, friendship, love, and the quiet exhaustion of being the one who survives when so many don’t. This poem is about honoring the lives that shaped me, sitting with the questions that never fully fade, and choosing to keep living even when the weight of remembrance feels almost unbearable.

A meditation on longing, motherhood, and the quiet ache of raising children far from the landscape that shaped you. This piece explores grief for what isn’t—and the steady resolve to one day carry your children home to the green still rooted in your heart.

A brief introduction into the world of my mind. This stream begins with a question: "what is mindfulness?"

This is the beginning of a 40 year marriage. Follow along as we learn how two young doe eyed people navigate a not so great relationship. And so it begins

The first time you set a boundary, it may feel like you’ve done something wrong — even when you haven’t. If you were raised to keep the peace, anticipate moods, or manage a parent’s emotions, choosing yourself can feel unnatural. Your body may react with guilt. Your thoughts may spiral: Was that too harsh? Am I being ungrateful? This is the old conditioning talking. Healthy family boundaries are not punishments. They are clarity. They sound simple — sometimes almost boring: “I’m not discussing that.” “That decision is mine.” “If this continues, I’m going to end the call.”

In the spirit of this truly meaningless calendar fluff of a holiday (Valentine's Day), I would like to share my own personal opinions on the nature of "love". Along with why I feel so dejected during this period.

Recognizing manipulative patterns isn’t about attacking or labeling a parent. It’s about clarity. It’s about finally trusting your own emotional experience. As children, we adapt to survive emotionally. We learn to keep the peace. We become the responsible one. The quiet one. The overachiever. The mediator. Those strategies once protected us. But what protected you then may be exhausting you now. you are allowed to love someone while also deciding how much access they have to your peace. Today isn’t about confrontation. It’s about observation. Pay attention to how your body feels during interactions. Notice when guilt appears. Notice when your voice gets smaller. These signals are information — not evidence of weakness.