After a difficult weekend at a family graduation, I found myself reflecting on loss, isolation, disability, and the life I thought I'd be living. Sometimes being left to your own devices isn't loneliness—it's freedom.
After a difficult weekend at a family graduation, I found myself reflecting on loss, isolation, disability, and the life I thought I'd be living. Sometimes being left to your own devices isn't loneliness—it's freedom.
Sometimes the biggest changes aren't visible. A memory from the Army, a lesson from Burning Man, and the realities of stroke recovery led me to a simple question: after all the complaining, what are you actually doing to fix it?
A raw letter to my mother three years after her death, reflecting on grief, sobriety, domestic violence, regret, family, military service, faith, and the complicated process of learning to forgive yourself.
Some losses aren’t people—they’re entire versions of your life. This is about learning to move forward when there’s no path back.