Two months before my wedding, I should be giggling over swatches and favors. Instead, I'm stuck in fear—afraid of saying goodbye to my life in Hampton and starting over in Germany. Here's my honest struggle with pre-wedding anxiety.
What My Three-Year-Old Niece Taught Me About Moving to Germany
Sometimes wisdom comes from the most unexpected teachers. As I prepared to leave everything familiar behind, my toddler niece reminded me what it really means to learn and grow.
When Students Become Teachers: Finding Poetry in Chaos
Teaching poetry to unruly sophomores taught me something unexpected: sometimes the most authentic writing emerges from the messiest places. Here's what my students taught me about courage.
Eighty-One Days Until Everything Changes Forever
In less than three months, I'll be married and living in Germany, leaving behind everything familiar except the man I love. Here's what it feels like to count down to a complete life transformation.
My Rotator Cuff Stole My Garden—But Not My Ability to Grow Things
This April, I can't dig in the dirt or pull the lawnmower cord. But watching my students discover that alliteration mimics wind and waves, I realize: some gardens grow in syntactical soil, where seeds bloom long after the gardener moves to Germany.
Who Will I Be in Germany? A Teacher’s Identity Crisis Before Marriage
Just three months before my students graduate, I'm fighting my own senioritis. Getting married and moving to Germany means leaving behind the only adult identity I've ever known.
When God Changes Your Plans: How I Learned to Say Yes to Germany
We had our whole life mapped out in Arlington when God dropped Germany on our doorstep. Here's what I learned about trusting a path you never asked to walk.
Five Years Without Music: How Divorce Stole My Voice and Why Tomorrow Will Be Warmer
I used to wake up singing. Now I sit at a barely-worn cherry piano, fingers finding notes but no words coming. Sometimes the deepest roots need the longest winters—and tomorrow, finally, will be warmer.
After 158 Tuesday Nights, Even the Cushions Know My Shape
Chuck's words echo: 'Gravity works against all things... with time.' My shoulder feels it literally, but we all feel it—in sagging skin, long-distance love, dreams deferred. Yet tonight, though I can't see my magnolias in darkness, I know they bloom. Some things resist gravity's pull, at least for now.
Two Totaled Cars Taught Me This: Confidence Without Experience Is Just Well-Intentioned Danger
Rules aren't enough. Like my students facing new SOL questions, like me trusting that waving lady in traffic—we need experience plus someone who believes we can drive again. My shoulder injury changed every gym rule I knew. Sometimes the mentor matters more than the method.