And you should, too…

While some may view that as privilege (I do, too, for what it’s worth), I hope you’ll stick with me long enough to hear why I still say this.

For better or worse, I’m an all-in kind of person. Always have been… Here’s the myth I didn’t realize I was carrying, though, until my physical health demanded I set it down: that being a real writer meant being relentless.

As I’ve limped and rested and brain-fogged my way toward some new version of normal again, I keep coming back to a single image. One that’s followed me through more than one collapse in my life.

The Tower.

There’s a common message they all seemed to communicate in on way or another, and it’s summed up nicely by Alysa Liu. I have a feeling many of her fellow Olympians share this perspective.

I’ve always written as a way to understand and express humanity, whereas now it feels more like I write as a way to connect with and celebrate it. That shift feels important.

We’re only a few days into the new year, and we’ve awoken this week to yet more news of chaos in the world. So, I’m scrapping my planned post in favor of sharing a short missive on the central theme of my life at the moment. I am becoming water.

What stories have you told yourself about who you are? What stories have others believed? What’s the truest story you can tell about yourself today? I’ve got lots of thoughts.

The common thread in writer’s block advice is hustle, pushing through… For disabled writers, people experiencing burnout, or those living with chronic illness or navigating grief, I think this advice can actually be harmful.

Writing really is an experiment to me these days, a freedom which has come only after years of research, study, and practice. Now that I feel reasonably confident in my skill as a writer, it’s fun to try new things!

When are some times you’ve been the most self-connected? What were you doing? Where were you? How did it feel ?

The healthy, therapized version of myself is reminding me to stay present even as uncomfortable memories surface from a long-forgotten time in my life, and the creative avoidant version of myself is writing things down to use as content in future projects.

It’s my 40th birthday! Grab a drink, your favorite snack, and a cozy blanket while I get all introspective about life, writing, past mistakes, and the many lives I’ve lived.

I may have a Taurus-heavy chart, but patience has never been one of my strongest personal qualities. Hard-working, persistent, reliable? Sure. But patient? Absolutely not.

I’m very much a “manage my expectations” kind of person, but I’m finding myself wanting to let go of it in this instance.

Mental health narratives play a crucial role in so many important stories, and as someone personally affected by mental health struggles throughout my life, it’s important to me that my work reflect those realities as well.

My choice to write LGBTQ stories is not just about checking boxes; it's a heartfelt commitment to authenticity, visibility, and celebrating the diverse spectrum of love and identity.

Beyond the academic discussions and clinical perspectives on the importance of discussing generational trauma, acknowledging it is an act of collective healing.