Newsletter
Newsletter
Newsletter
Losing Attunement
That’s grief. Plain, boring, unfair grief. People like to reserve that word for death because it makes it feel safer, more legitimate. But this is the same mechanism. A source of attunement disappeared. Something that tuned you more clearly to yourself, to the moment, to being seen. Your system
Newsletter
People Want You to Succeed (Until You Do)
I’ve noticed something strange about “community” spaces online. If I post that I’m struggling, people show up. If I post confusion, grief, or self-doubt, there are hearts, replies, DMs. But when I say, I finished something When I say, I published a book When I share a copyright
Newsletter
When There's Nothing Left to Fix
We mistake silence for unfinished business. We think closure has to sound like a conversation, or that peace has to be mutual. It doesn’t. Sometimes the only thing left to fix is the urge to keep fixing. That’s the hardest kind of growth—the moment you realize the
Newsletter
No New Information
The storm didn’t pass because I calmed it. It passed because it ran out of fuel. That fuel was new information. Or the hope of it. At the beginning, the system is reactive. Maybe today there’s news. Note: maybe today’s the day. Maybe this call changes things.
Newsletter
When the Apology Never Came
Something happens at the end of the year. Everyone’s out here tying bows on things, checking boxes, pretending the past twelve months made sense. And if you’re anything like me, that’s when the ghosts get loud. The old hurts. The unfinished business. The conversations that never happened
Newsletter
What We Carry Into the New Year
Emotional Loops – Winter Edition #2
Newsletter
December Isn’t for Everyone (and That’s Okay)
Emotional Loops – Winter Edition #1
Newsletter
The Goodbye That Doesn’t Fit
How do you say goodbye to someone you never expected to matter? How do you part ways with someone who irritated you at first, who blocked your path, who felt more like an obstacle than an ally? Someone who showed up wrong in the beginning, then quietly turned into a
Newsletter
Almost Present
We decide what moments mean before they finish happening because uncertainty scares us more than disappointment. We’re already scanning for loss. Already rehearsing disappointment. Already bracing for absence. A text comes through and instead of letting it land, we immediately wonder when the next one will arrive. We don’
Newsletter
I Want a Floor That Doesn’t Move
I’m tired of reconfiguring. Not in the cute, growth-oriented, “look at me evolving” way. In the bone-deep, exhausted way. The kind you feel when you’ve rebuilt the same internal house over and over and still haven’t gotten to sit down on the couch. This year has been
Newsletter
The Morning I Dreaded Both Sides of the Door
Some weeks stretch you thin in places you didn’t expect. This one showed me a truth I’d been avoiding, and I wrote my way through it. Quiet exits don’t leave explosions. They leave gaps in the schedule. You don’t grieve a person in the abstract. You