The Second We Seek to Blame
When things go wrong, our bodies want to blame. But what if grace is the better way through?We were standing at the Southwest counter, just beginning to check our bags for a long-awaited trip to Mexico.And then—passport check.Kelly looked at me and said gently,“Oh… that’s the old one.”And my body lit up.Tight chest. Churning stomach.That
🧨 Bare Minimum Boys, Broken Systems, and the Rage That Heals
A review of “Graphic Rage” — and the stories it woke in me.“Why didn’t you say you were in this much pain?”“I did.”Reading Graphic Rage, Aubrey Hirsch’s new collection of comics on gender, justice, and life as a woman in America, cracked something open in me.No, that’s not quite right.It revealed what was already cracked.It
What If Flow Wasn’t the Escape, But the Way?
There are two versions of me.One lives in black and white. She effortfully wakes up early, checks things off the list, answers emails, responds quickly, stays ahead. She's useful. She's needed. She's bracing. Bracing for the next hit of responsibility, for the moment she forgets something, for the shoe to drop. She's productive, sure. But
A Love Letter to the Parts of Me Still Holding On
There’s something I need to say. To my inner child. To my weary adult. To my hurting back. To my kid, Leo. To my wife, Kelly. To anyone who’s ever tried to keep the world spinning with one exhausted hand:I’m tired of being the lifeguard.I want to swim.It started small—me getting irritated at the TV.
What Living Through a Suicide Crisis Taught Me About Success, Purpose, Life, and Joy
Hey friends,Last night, I had the honor of being the featured speaker for United Suicide Survivors International’s first webinar of 2025. We talked about surviving the impossible — and how sometimes the work of staying alive starts with simply telling the truth.This was never about building a life that looks good.It’s about building a life
Have you ever felt alone… while lying next to someone who was supposed to love you?
I have.Twice married. Twice divorced.Dozens of relationships.Countless nights where I felt invisible—except for what someone could take from me.For most of my life, I thought if I could just be better—more pleasing, more accommodating, more chill, more quiet, more sexy, more… something—then love would stay. Then I’d finally be enough.Then I watched a movie on
Patriarchal Sobriety (One Day at a Time)
The art of returning to myself when the world—and my own mind—pulls me away.I’ve been in a spiral of efforting lately. A low-grade hum of stress mixed with productivity mode: unpacking from travel, prepping for our upcoming move, crossing tasks off the list, catching up on emails, school enrollment, healthcare paperwork—all the things. Necessary, sure.
Live with Magic in the Mess
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Why Drawing Cartoons Might Be the Most Important Thing I’m Doing Right Now
Lately, I haven’t felt super inspired to write.And instead of spiraling, I’ve tried to get curious.Because something else has been calling to me—and I finally started listening.I’ve been drawing.Cartoons. Characters. Faces with big expressions and messy feelings.I’ve been using ChatGPT’s cartooning tools to sketch daily, experiment, and play.And it’s lighting me up in a way
A Birthday Reflection on My Mom, Patriarchy, and Reclaiming Ourselves
This morning, I rolled out my yoga mat, hoping to shake off the Monday morning parenting frustrations that come with getting back into routine after spring break. As I moved through the practice, the instructor invited us to think of someone who is very easy to love.Immediately, my mom came to mind.Today is her 78th
