My writing
A growing collection. Take whichever one is calling to you.
Come as you are, bring a cup of coffee, and settle in.
Let’s start a conversation about taking care of ourselves with the same care we’ve given our families for so long. There’s no pushing harder here, or another list of hacks and routines to follow. Just a space to explore my writing and see what resonates with you.
Get comfy. Take your time. I’m glad you’re here.
If you'd like, I can send an occasional note when I share something new. No schedule, no pressure — just a quiet hello when there's something worth reading.
A growing collection. Take whichever one is calling to you.
I loved to read when I was a kid. Both my parents were readers. I also loved to write stories and poems.
Around 12, I started outgrowing the teenage drama series I had been reading, so I asked if I could read my parents’ Dean Koontz books. That led me to Stephen King, and I was blown away by the idea that someone could write stories and actually get paid for it.
By high school, I was taking creative writing classes and beginning to understand how big the world of writers really was. I wanted to be part of it.
As I got older and became a mom and wife, writing fiction became something I thought I would come back to someday when my kids were grown.
But during those years, something else became important to me too. I wanted to help women.
Raising kids and taking care of a family was hard, and I felt like women needed more support. It seemed like we were expected to handle everything and somehow still do it with a smile on our faces.
I even went to a local college for a little while with the goal of becoming a therapist who worked with women.
I knew women needed more support, but back then I didn’t understand how much my own beliefs were shaping the way I was living.
I thought being a good mom and wife meant putting my family’s needs before my own. I didn’t know I could take care of myself and still be a good mom and wife. To me, it felt like an either-or situation.
It was the nineties, and self-care wasn’t something we talked about. I didn’t have a role model showing me what it could look like. Even if someone had told me it was okay to take care of myself too, I’m not sure I would have known how to make that work in everyday life.
I’ve learned a lot since then, and I’m still learning. It wasn’t until the last couple of years that I started to see how these two things I had cared about for so long could come together.
I could write for women, sharing what I’ve learned and what I’m still figuring out.
I still write fiction for fun, for me. That part hasn’t gone away.
But writing has also become a way to have the conversations I wish I could have had when I was younger.
There’s no pressure to do anything with these questions. They’re simply something to think about, if you’d like.
Is there something I’ve wanted to make room for that I keep coming back to?
Just for you and your notebook.