There was supposed to be a video: The Idea i had three days ago
There are so many things I’d love to tell you. Moments of my day I’d really enjoy sharing. Ideas for content that are always running through my mind.
But the truth is, I’m exhausted.
the book you’ll never read
I've written a book, but there's another version of it that you'll never read.
That’s the one written in invisible ink, for my eyes only.
It's filled with paragraphs that never made it onto the page, emotions that never made it into the manuscript, and stories that were intentionally set aside.
The book I’ll publish is the one I believe will help people. The invisible-ink version is the one that brought it into being.
The uniquely perfect space of “almost okay with it”
Recently, I heard someone in a painful situation describe herself as being "almost okay with it."
The phrase stayed with me.
She wasn't talking about something small. She was speaking about a loss so profound that I can barely allow myself to imagine it. Yet what lingered in the air wasn't the story itself. It was those few simple words:
"I'm almost okay with it."
writing the book while still living the story
Over the past many months, I’ve spent countless hours writing and revising a book about living alongside chronic pain. In many ways, the process forced me to revisit this experience more deeply than I had in years. In other ways, it challenged me more than I imagined.
why I don’t use the word “acceptance”
There’s a word that rarely appears in my work.
Not because I don’t understand its meaning.
And not because I think there’s anything inherently wrong with it.
But because, for me, it has always felt a little… unsettled.
The word is acceptance.
I call it… the “A” word.
The Job I loved was still just a job
Not everyone can say that they love their job and get incredible fulfillment from it. But for those who do, the effects of chronic pain can make it devastatingly difficult to keep doing that work. I continued to teach for two and a half years in horrific pain while seeking proper medical treatment that could restore my health and ability to function. I had no way of knowing then that this wasn’t in the cards.
when relationships end without explanation
Few experiences are more painful than when someone disappears from our lives without explanation.
There’s no final conversation, no moment of clarity, no shared understanding that something has changed. Instead, there’s simply silence, and the unanswered question that stays with us for a long time afterward: What happened?
When “Just” Isn’t simple
Few words sting quite like just when you’re living with chronic pain. It might sound harmless enough on the surface, yet it carries an assumption that effort, access, and capacity are universal. In this context, it can feel like a four-letter word that cuts to the bone.
The imperative of self-advocacy
Living with chronic pain is exhausting enough, but dealing with people who minimize us, and our experience, is no less exhausting and irritating. It gets so old. The energy it takes to constantly encounter such limited understanding and entitlement from people
the cost of careless words: When cruelty is disguised as conversation
There are times when someone’s words land like a stone — heavy, sharp, and impossible to shrug off. For those of us living with chronic pain or disability, these moments can feel all too familiar. What may have been intended as casual curiosity or even concern can instead come across as judgment, dismissal, or intrusion.
the radical act of slowing down
To some, slowing down — whether by choice or necessity — is often met with discomfort, suspicion, or pity. It can also be easily mistaken for failure. In our culture, the productivity myth prevails. We live in a world that worships speed. Quick decisions, fast fixes, and relentless momentum are praised as signs of strength. Productivity