A bit about me and why I write

A bit about me and why I write

My mission, what drives me and makes my heart soar, is to help lead people out of loneliness and back in to love. And if I can make people laugh while doing that, well then, that’s the ultimate trifecta for me. I read some words that helped me heal. That mechanism astounds me and I want to be part of it. I want to turn around and help the next one in line via the telling and the sharing, the writing and the reading, the connection and the healing. My hope is that something I write will find its way to you and help you too.


When I read the “About” pages of writers I appreciate I am hoping to find some insight into the person behind the words. I am eager to get to know them. And/or I am hoping they will make me laugh. Either one will do. Four years later, I am still laughing about when a good friend sat beside me on my couch, put her bare feet up on the coffee table and said, “look, I shaved my big toes for you.” A little levity goes a long way with me.

In the spirit of reciprocity, some things that help to explain me but will never define me are that I am an only child, I don’t tan I burn, I can’t be left alone with a box of Girl Scout Cookies, I was raised by my mom because my dad couldn’t even, I have fugly feet, I’ve had three different perceived near-death experiences, I root for the underdog, and I have a real problem with the color mauve. I LOVE CHANGE, my go-to playlist right now is either Daya on shuffle or Sturgill Simpson and his genre-bending sound, I bake a Bailey’s Irish Cream and chocolate fudge bundt cake that you would sell an organ for, I am a college graduate, I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I believe in a loving God, when I see a picture of myself with almost anyone else I remember that I am short but otherwise I feel tall and I have been married for 21 years so yeah, I’ve got some stick-to-it-ive-ness. But really, it’s been 6 of the happiest years of my life. I have two children that push me to the outer banks of sanity and for whom I would lay down my life with exactly zero hesitation, both things are true.

I get through life when it feels to lifey (thank you Anne Lamott, for that adjective) by choosing to laugh, dance, read, learn, grow and binge watch Girl Boss/Entourage/Homeland/Fixer Upper/Shameless/Parenthood/Narcos/Girls/Ozark. I also keep calm and… choose to believe Justin Timberlake is my spirit animal, accept my introverted tendencies, be outdoors, travel, stay home, make cherished memories, slurp boxed wine, tell shame to “suck it,” rearrange the furniture, talk to God, listen to God, trust in God, wait on God, change into my soft pants, sniff out bottomless mimosas like a truffle pig, raise my heart rate, channel Scarlett O’Hara and think about it tomorrow, lift the weight and hike the hill, speak the truth, hang with lovers and ignore haters, buy all the shoes, embrace imperfection, find a cause, remember I’m not the only one, be the change, forgive, forgive, forgive and love, love, love.


What will you find here in this blog? Fair question. Maybe it’s best to think of it  like a metaphorical game of Whack-a-Mole in respect to the content.

You’ll hear from me about a smorgasbord of topics and universalisms related to life, love, loneliness, marriage, family, children, relationships and the cosmic clash between joy and grief within each of those realms that so many of us encounter, as they present themselves to me like 8-year-olds squirming in their seats, with their hands raised high, shouting, “pick me, pick me!”

My writing prompts come to me as memories, or as things I can’t get sorted out and filed away in one of the storage boxes in my brain, or as part of a chat I had or a book or blog I read. Sometimes they’re formed by something that happened to me that left its mark or by regrets that stick to me like gum to a shoe or by how I treated someone or how they treated me, good or bad.

And I write about recovering from infidelity in my marriage. When it comes to the affair, I heed some great advice and I wait until I can write from my scars and not my open wounds. It’s better for us all that way. So as I heal, I write. And I have found that as I write, I heal faster. And that as I share, we all heal together. And that’s the good, the gold. If this topic is one that’s choking your heart and scrambling your brain, and it helps you to know you’re not alone, click here for a collection of posts.

However the ideas come to me and in whichever order they pop up, I’ll vet them out and if I think they add value to the conversation, I’ll polish them up and place them here. And speaking of value, the following essays seemed to have provided some. The readership of each of these two posts soared to over ten times the average readership of my other pieces:

  1. I Can’t Think About That Now, I’ll Go Crazy If I Do
  2. From Eyes Wide Shut, To A Heart Wide Open

So, if you’re still with me, and you’re on board for utterly imperfect musings on life, love, and less loneliness, then grab your oversized rubber mallet and let’s play mole!

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