Featured Work

Generally when a writer blogs, there is a central theme. However I’ve never been much of a blogger; at least, not exclusively. I’m an essayist who covers a number of topics and just crossposts them on her own platform. Some are more mainstream and some are richer in content.

Here, I have split them up into better categories for easier browsing. In the future some specific sections will become their own blogs. For now, this is where they will remain.

Keep in mind a few things as you browse: I have been (slowly but surely) working on re-categorizing everything so pieces may move around; most if not all posts will belong to at least 2 categories so you may see them more than once; and if something is paywalled blame the publisher, not me :)

please be patient as I rebuild this system to something more navigable! If you get truly lost remember there is navigation at the bottom of the page!


A black and white closeup of a gearshifter

My First Week on Adderall

What happened when I walked into a clinic expecting a pap smear and walked out with an Adderall prescription.

Midsummer State of the Blonde

It’s been a non-stop shit-show of people telling me I’m so amazing and deserve better then turning around and letting me down by choice. And the impact really can’t be summed up in a paragraph or two.

When Truth Holds You Hostage

But on the other days, the ones I can push through, the healed (or healing) part of me asks “Why don’t others believe they deserve me? Why do they fear what they want?”


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a woman in a leotard bends backward over her heels and clutches her chest. she is alone in a minimally-furnished hardwood home. Her face is angry, twisted, in pain.

Why I’m Not Angry With Him

I didn’t know then that he was confessing. His words were sincere but like so many other things he said, were incomplete statements. He stopped short of the whole truth: “You deserve better than what the world dealt you, but I choose not to give it because I don’t believe I deserve it also.”

a pair of hands with light skin break free from handcuffs against a clear sky with fluffy clouds

I Know Why He Did It

We do not teach anyone that a ring is like having a baby. It does not save, enhance, or promote a relationship—it burdens one. If and only if the couple is prepared and equipped to share that burden will it succeed long-term.

Two hands outstretch toward each other against a white canvas

Questions I’m Not Sure I Want Answered

In the wake of what I experienced and as my perspective sharpened, I was left with questions I didn’t have before. They were painful to say out loud but I knew that acknowledging and accepting them was my way out. They were the sign I had at least located the home stretch even if I was not ready to traverse it.

Who Bears the Emotional Labor in an Affair?

I thought I was giving him the freedom to be himself, figure things out, and come to me when he felt ready. In reality, he was using me to plug the holes in the sinking ship of his marriage. And when she returned, there was no need for me. If one woman was defective and absent; the other would do just fine.

Two people in silhouette lean in for a kiss.

If There Could Ever Be a Good Ending to an Unknown Affair, I Found It

If either of us had boarded a plane, it would have been a much different outcome. A single kiss would have sealed a far worse fate. Something was going to give sooner or later. Much better that an algorithm tipped me off in the middle of the night rather than a condom breaking in the middle of a getaway.


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An overhead shot of a concrete maze.

The Thirteenth Hour

Before, my life felt like I was always running a labyrinth. Always hearing a screaming baby in a distant place, never able to reach it, constantly yanked in different directions, racing against a time frame that didn’t exist. But now the whole thing has been razed, disintegrated.

an orange tabby cat paws at a conure while it looks on

What Even is Time?

When it rains, it pours. When an Angeleno leaves LA for any subjectively significant time, one’s re-entry is provisional until they’ve seen their therapist. I don’t make the rules (okay, sometimes I do). But in my case, it’s true. The past few weeks have wrung me dry and I didn’t feel truly centered until I…

Continue reading → What Even is Time?

A blonde woman is backdropped by a cloudy gray sky

The Art of Radical Self-Trust

As a writer I have always believed in trusting the reader. If a writer fails this, the prose suffers. It is where walls of text and overwrought exposition is born and storytelling goes to die.


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