People often say that my daughter and I look exactly alike, and my typical response is, "But she’s much prettier." I struggle to understand how I could possibly be considered that pretty as well. Growing up, praise was scarce, while criticism was abundant. As a result, I felt ugly and somewhat stupid, convinced I was never doing anything right. My childhood provided a blueprint of what not to do as a parent, leaving me feeling broken inside. I learned to project confidence wh

In reflecting on my journey, I realize that the pursuit of freedom has been a significant theme in my life. Expanding from childhood escapades to adult choices, this quest has shaped my understanding of self-discovery and belonging.

People flinch when I say how old my kids are, like I’ve got monsters at home. But my kids talk to me. That isn’t luck — it’s intention, born from studying my parents’ mistakes and my own. I made plenty of them when they were little. Their reactions were the mirror that showed me who I didn’t want to be — and where I could choose repair. ✨

Every Halloween, I think about my dad. He wasn’t around — by choice. I used to miss the idea of him more than the man himself. But healing means accepting it was his loss — because I’m a damn delight to have around.