Builder Mommy is the name. This week I built a shed and installed an air fryer microwave. That sentence sounds like the opening line of a very boring Home Depot commercial, but somehow both of those things cracked me open emotionally in a way that no guided meditation, breathwork exercise, or inspirational Instagram reel ever has. That feels extremely on‑brand for my life. The Context No One Asks For but Everyone Needs I am a single mother to a toddler, living in Portland, tr

I was sixteen when a doctor handed me Xanax to quiet a brain that wouldn't stop screaming. Years later, Vipassana meditation gave me back something medication never could: presence. Here's what actually happened when I traded the pill for the cushion, the science, the struggle, and whether it really works

A personal essay on a decade of losses, from domestic violence to addiction to illness, and the hardest boundary yet: choosing peace over a relationship with her own mother. A reflection on the difference between compassion and self-abandonment, and what it means to parent your own parent while little eyes are watching.

A night inside Mono Space, Portland's high-fidelity listening gallery, for a full album playback of Frank Ocean's Channel Orange. A reflection on sound, memory, and a birthday spent revisiting the album that once carried her through a self-discovery trip across Spain.

A return to the French Quarter after years away, from the smell of Bourbon Street to the courtyards, ghost stories, and hurricanes the city has absorbed without ever softening for anyone. A reflection on the magic of a place that doesn't wait for you, and what it reveals about how much you've changed.