I have roamed far and wide struggling to feel a sense of belonging in family, and oftentimes community. I struggled to identify why I felt misunderstood while observing others who seem to know something I don’t about how this life works.
I was diagnosed with cPTSD in my thirties. Then, Autism in my mid-forties. With cPTSD came an understanding that my nervous system was on overdrive from past traumas, but that I can heal. With Autism came the grief that helped me understand why it felt like some of that healing never came.
Since I was a teenager, writing has been an escape and anchor for me to find hope and meaning. During the pandemic, I began putting my thoughts on social media and quickly amassed around 800k people following my work. Since that time, I have learned that I need a much smaller, quieter space that allows me to write freely and reach those who are intentional about whose words they hear.
This is my life’s work. Writing to, for, and about those who feel lost. Writing on behalf of those needing to see a different view in their darkest hour. It is humbling to be invited into that part of people’s lives. It is not something I will ever take lightly.
As I have shared on every post the past several years…I’m glad you’re here.
