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Today, in the warm silence of the shower, a thought found me without asking permission. And suddenly, the tears came. Not the kind you choose, but the kind that fall on their own and steal the air from your lungs. How is it possible to live twenty years with someone... twenty years!... learning how to be friends, how to be shelter, how to be a team? To be a whole woman. To be a wife. To help each other cross life. To raise children side by side. To invent routines, memories,

I need you to hear this first: I love you. I love you more than anything, more than words can hold. I hope you feel it, even when i’m quiet, even when life gets messy, in the way i think about you, in the way i worry about you, in the way you’re always in my heart. This past year has been so hard. The separation, the divorce, moving… trying to figure out a new way to live. That’s a lot for anyone. And for you, my sensitive, kind, amazing girl, it must have felt like the groun

There are seasons when it feels like life is quietly undoing everything you worked so hard to build. The plan you trusted no longer fits. The timeline you committed to stretches beyond recognition. What once felt certain now feels strangely out of reach. It’s tempting, in those moments, to believe you’ve missed a turn, that you’re behind, off course, or somehow failing the vision you held so clearly. But what if this phase isn’t a mistake or a setback? What if it’s a refining

It didn’t destroy me. It exposed me. It showed me how often i was outsourcing my grounding. How easily i handed my center to love, to attention, to being understood. How much weight i expected other people to hold for me. This year wasn’t about heartbreak. It was about responsibility. I lived intensely. I loved fully. I didn’t dilute myself to be digestible. But i learned the hard way that intensity without self-rooting becomes survival mode. That passion without internal saf

Christmas arrives this year like a slow, aching melody, layered, textured, alive. Not a song for the radio, a song for the chest, for the places that cracked open and learned how to breathe again. For so many years, Christmas carried a weight. A deep, dragging gravity. I blamed the empty chairs, the missing faces, the names that no longer answered when called. And yes, absence leaves a bruise. Silence has its own language. But that was only the surface harmony. Beneath it liv

... with the ones who feel until it hurts to breathe. The ones with no skin, only nerves. Hearts exposed, beating loud and reckless, no mute button, no safe mode, no exit. I stay with those who love like it’s a crime they’re willing to commit. Who fall knowing it might destroy them and jump anyway. Who cry in public, in private, in the middle of the night, not to be saved, but because holding it in would kill them faster. I stay with the ones who laugh like they’re mocking de

It began before names. Before words. Before thought. A rhythm unspoken. Slow. Insistent. Impossible to resist. Minds brushing, leaning, circling. Hearts daring what bodies had not yet known. A gravity pulling without asking. A language only in pauses, in breaths, in the space between pulse and silence. And then… it shattered. Raw. Sudden. A weight cutting through everything. The rhythm trembling. Closeness dangerous. Trust fragile. The current faltered. Distance became mercy.

Some dates have a way of lingering in our memory, returning year after year like quiet reminders. The 7th of December is one of those days… a marker of journeys, choices and chapters that shift the course of a life. On a 7th of December long ago, someone set out to reconnect with their roots, to search for a sense of belonging that had been missing. A departure that left an empty space behind, teaching early lessons about distance, time and the stories people chase. Years lat

The question came, soft and ordinary: are you ok? and the truth rose, trembling, like a pulse under the skin. It didn’t escape. Yes slipped out instead… a word too small, too clean, carrying none of what it should. Another yes returned, polished, certain, hollow. And just like that, the world was “as it should be.” But beneath the surface, something cracked. Not a crash, not a roar… just a quiet collapse, the subtle giving way of what was real. Two lies met in silence, brushi

Today my heart celebrates what would have been my grandmother’s 100th birthday. It’s impossible to put into words what it meant to have her in my life for my first 20 years. She was passion, strength, courage and charm all wrapped in one unforgettable woman, with a touch of sass that made everything brighter. She loved red, she loved to dance and she loved life with a boldness that taught me what it means to be truly alive. “Dance is life, my sweet heart!” she would say, and

“This girl I know needs some shelter She don't believe anyone can help her She's doing so much harm, doing so much damage But you don't wanna get involved You tell her she can manage And you can't change the way she feels But you could put your arms around her I know you wanna live yourself But could you forgive yourself If you left her just the way you found her? I stand in front of you I'll take the force of the blow, protection I stand in front of you I'll take the force o

I don’t even know what “healing” means anymore. Everyone talks about it as if it were light, but to me it feels more like an open wound. Like tearing the skin off, layer by layer, until only the pulse and the truth remain. It isn’t peace. It’s violence. It’s chaos. It’s the sound of old versions of me screaming as they die. The parts that kept me safe, the ones that made me small enough to be loved, fight to survive and I am the one killing them. I thought trauma was pain. Bu

Today, November 5th, i celebrate 23 years in this country i now call home. 23 years ago, i was a 25 years old woman full of dreams, starting a new life from scratch. Today, at 48, i find myself doing it all over again…rebuilding, rediscovering and reimagining my life. The past few months have been tough… but also amazing, beautiful and full of growth. Beyond my children, my greatest treasures, i’ve been blessed to find incredible souls who walk this path with me. To the one w

It's not your anxious attachment It's your emotional avoidance Not theirs...yours You don't attract avoidant people because you're too needy You attract them because you're unavailable to your own emotions You want someone to hold your emotions But you can't even hold them yourself You want deep intimacy But you abandon your sadness the second it shows up You numb your rage You spiritualize your grief You analyze your pain instead of feeling it And so you call in partners Who

Lately, i’ve been thinking that life isn’t something we walk through… it’s something we dance. And the truth is, i don’t always know the steps. Some days i glide forward like the music is inside me. Other days i trip over my own feet and lose the rhythm completely. But somehow, even when i stumble, the song keeps playing. Two steps forward. One step back. And still… i move. There are days that feel like tango… heavy, close, slow. The kind of days where everything matters too