Four mornings in a row, I showed up at the pier to see nothing. But I wasn't really seeing nothing, was I? I was witnessing God's faithfulness in the fog. This morning, after four days of grey, pink threaded through purple across the water. The sun rose today, outside and inside. God is faithful like that despite the fog, or perhaps because of it.
seasonal depression
Trading Heroes for Mentors
As a child, my mom was my hero. Now, teaching sixth graders about heroism while navigating my own struggles, I've realized something: I don't have heroes anymore. I collect mentors instead. Heroes stand on pedestals, untouchable and perfect. Mentors sit beside you with their own scars visible, showing you how to navigate the flaws. The real hero's journey? Not an ascent to perfection but a descent from pedestals to walk alongside others.
Day 22: Barely Breathing – When Winter Winds Wake You Up
The winter winds whip in and out of my cracked screen door... So alive in spite of me. Everything I haven't touched yet, touches me, knows me if only for an instant. A dark season poem about feeling alive despite depression.
When the Scale Says You’re Not Who You Used to Be
At thirty-three, I don't look like the woman in my mind's eye. Here's what my students' prom, a heartbreak playlist, and my azalea bushes taught me about moving on from time itself.
Writer's Growth 