—— One layer at a time, from the inside out ——
The peeling isn't the problem. It's the path.
These are personal conversations — honest accounts of what it looked like to come apart and come back together. On postpartum depression, on faith, on the long search for what is actually true.
On the stripping away that leads you back to yourself
Nobody warns you about the silence. They warn you about the sleeplessness. The feeding schedules. But nobody warns you about the particular quality of fear that can arrive in an ordinary moment and take up permanent residence.
Read →How two words in a search bar changed the course of my life
There is a particular kind of desperation that doesn't look like desperation from the outside. It looks like trying. It looks like showing up. It looks like doing everything you're supposed to do and waiting, quietly, for any of it to work.
Read →On faith, the questions I wasn't supposed to ask, and what I found in the stillness
I grew up with God the way a lot of us do. Not intimately. Not with certainty. More like — adjacently. I went through the motions. I showed up. I did what was expected.
Read →The search that began with a footnote and became a life
I couldn't stop thinking about what my doctor had said. Deep Buddhist meditation. But we don't have time for that. Said as a footnote. Dismissed. But that single sentence wouldn't let go.
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