Although I expected identity to be precise, I never seemed to find it. Growing up, I didn’t know which friend group I belonged to because I liked a little about all of them. I had a sporty side, a musical side, an artistic side, a nerdy side, a wild side, a conservative side, a confident side, a shy side, a nervous side. In high school there was a spell where I was the photographer or the German-loving girl. Or maybe the one who knew so much about music. My style was also wid

Loss entered my life early, shifting the air around me before I had words for what was happening. In second grade, my great-grandmother died. It was the first time I saw adults cry in that particular way—quiet, resigned, as if their grief was older than their words. I didn’t know then that it was only the beginning, the start of a rotation of painful goodbyes I would learn too early and too often. By fourth grade, the losses came so close together they blurred. My uncle died

Some connections change shape but never fade. The ginkgo, with its golden fall leaves and ancient roots, reminds me that even when everything else shifts, the bonds that matter most find a way to remain. The ginkgo has become more than a tree to me. Like me, it’s a survivor — a living emblem of endurance and grace. Some of the oldest ginkgos have stood for more than a thousand years, their roots holding the memory of entire civilizations. Even after the atomic bombing of Hiro

If you blink, you might miss the journey. I blinked and somehow ended up in Atlanta for eight years and counting. When I first arrived on November 11, 2017, I couldn’t have imagined what these years would hold. I came here chasing change—new work, new community, new meaning—but what I found was more complicated and more rewarding than any plan I could’ve made. This city tested me, stretched me, and ultimately shaped me. There are not enough words or enough photos to capture e

I am the torn fabric. The frayed edge. The thread that snapped mid-stitch. The seam that never held. I have asked the question over and over: how can she live with herself? How can she focus on a new girlfriend when my life has been shredded beyond repair? She had to tear mine apart to build hers, and I’m the one left holding the loose ends. I can’t eat a full meal or sleep a full night. I can’t work, or focus, or date. I barely exist between panic and exhaustion. Every corne

Note: This post contains some sensitive information regarding mental health. My brain's trauma response has been, at the very least, interesting to observe. I have had dark thoughts imagining suicide, I have fantasized about others feeling pain so mine might ease, and I have endured panic attacks no matter where I am—concerts, trivia night, even the Pride parade. One of the most frequent responses comes in the form of nightmares. For one solid week, I had one every single n

One week after I moved to Atlanta, I felt the rug pulled out from under me. He called to say he had to rush Sadie Sammiches, our sweet pitbull mix who genuinely looked like an alien baby, to the emergency vet because she was yelping in pain. The staff ran some x-rays to locate the source. The next afternoon, the doctor called my cell while I was covering the reception desk. She’d tried reaching him first, but when he didn’t answer, she called the secondary number. I sat there

Disclaimer: This is not my writing. I’m too tired. ChatGPT has perspective. Let’s learn. Forgiveness is the conscious decision to release resentment, anger, or the desire for revenge toward someone (or even yourself) who has caused harm, whether or not they “deserve” it or have apologized. It doesn’t mean excusing or forgetting what happened, but rather freeing yourself from being emotionally bound to the hurt. Here’s what forgiveness often looks like in practice, especially

There’s a scene in the coming-of-age hit show Heartstopper where the main character Nick is questioning his sexuality. He’s in high school and realizing that he is probably bisexual. One evening he is watching Pirates of the Caribbean  with his mother, and she teases him about his obsession with Kira Knightley. However, as Nick is watching the camera pan back and forth between close ups of Kira Knightley and Orlando Bloom, he realizes he had feelings for them both. Same, Nick

I really don't want to stay stuck on the same thoughts forever,  and I am working through the painful healing process. However, healing a wounded soul takes time, a long time when the wound was intentional. My current rumination is thinking how you had to destroy my life in order to have her AND you were OK with that. Re-read that. You were OK destroying my life. It doesn't matter why. You should never be OK hurting someone else on purpose, but you were. What happened to frie

This was one of the firsts in what would be a list of unbearable moments, unexpected foreshadowing of what was to come. We had a history of jogging together on the Beltline or around the base of Stone Mountain. We usually started together, but she would often go off on her own for a bit because she was much faster and fitter. Nevertheless, it always felt like we did it as a team. In 2019 when I ran my first 5k, she ran super slow right by my side, and it meant everything to m

Very few people know this: I have had several vacations in the last 7 years–Charleston, Ohio, Savannah, Alabama & Florida, Charlotte, St. Simons & Sapelo, New Mexico, and Boston. And countless day trips–Albany, Tuscaloosa, Selma, Huntsville, Eatonton, Millbrook.  There's no proof that I was there. I used to do a lot of photography. Since coming to Atlanta, I have had 3 primary subjects, but you would only know about two of them. Besides taking pictures of the animals around t

I had a cute opportunity to witness a first date. Last week while working at a local coffee shop, I watched a slightly overdressed young woman in her mid-30s walk in with an all black outfit, black heels, and nicely coiffed blond hair. She looked around, placed her coffee order, and took a seat next to me on the long bench in front of the side window.  I had been writing my book for about 15 minutes, but had not yet remembered to send my music into my earbuds. I kept typing a

If you call the depression hotline, the counselor on the other end of the phone will ask you straight away if you have ever thought about killing yourself. The first time I called I said, “No, absolutely not.” The second time, through a curtain of tears, I had to say, “Yes.”  Mental health issues run in the family. My brother, my mom, and her dad have all suffered to some degree. My dad’s cousin and a few of my cousins have suffered from addiction. At my mom’s funeral, people

It’s not the break up, it’s what has happened since then that has destroyed me. And when I say I am destroyed, I am not being dramatic. I have cried every single day for 5 weeks. Some days, all I have done is cry. I am debilitated. I cannot sleep, eat, or properly function for basic household tasks. I pace trying to figure out what to do next, whether I should do anything at all. Should I go write from a coffee shop? Should I try to meet a friend? Call a friend? Should I go h

Edit: This was written in 2021. We had a big fight after she said she had been thinking about her first girlfriend whom she dated in 2018 very briefly. We broke up. She asked me to come back. I did. A cycle we continued for 6.5 years. Without you, I fell asleep for an hour and had a dream with you in it. It felt so real. It was sad and scary. I forced myself to wake up because it was making me tremble. I opened my eyes, but the reality is even worse. I told you once that I wo

I spent a long, exhausting first day at my new job. It was the first time I had worked in an office setting since working part-time at an independent living facility in my early twenties. I learned a lot. I learned about the German community in Atlanta, I learned about Atlanta demographics as a whole, and I learned that my boss was leaving her position as executive director in exactly two weeks. To make matters worse, one of the full-time leadership roles had been held by a v

I told him that I was done. I could not continue with the never-ending distance and the lack of plan to make things different, better. I was tired of being physically and emotionally alone. I knew I needed to make significant changes and take control of my situation. All of the desperation I was feeling could easily be blamed on someone else – he abandoned me, he isn’t trying, he holds me back. That’s the easy response, but after some of the tears dried, I realized I had to g

I get stuck a lot. I want to write, and I either cannot find an interesting way of expressing myself or I can't find the time.

This is not a story about coming out, although so many people want it to be. My story is about how my life changed quickly and unexpectedly and how I navigated through it. I arrived in Atlanta with a husband, seven dogs, no tattoos, and an absolute disgust for beer. After just a couple of years, I was in a relationship with a woman, had a cat, several tattoos, and a love for a cold wheat ale. I had a new job that afforded me unique opportunities and created a new lifestyle ex