To the Wife Who’s Tired of Loving from the Backseat

—and the woman who’s done softening first.

Written from my experience in a heteronormative marriage, but meant for anyone who’s ever loved from th...

To the Body That’s Tired of Performing for a Scale

—and the woman who’s done measuring her worth in decimals.

I threw my scale away while cleaning the bathroom.
No dramatic ritual.
No rage.
Just pic...

To the One Who’s Done Taking Pills to Be Palatable—and fought like hell not to disappear in the process:

I remember the day I got engaged.

But not the way I should.

There was a family get-together....

To the Mother Who Feels Like She’s Disappearing —and still holds the line anyway:

I didn’t collapse into clutter.
I didn’t lose myself in sleep deprivation or chaos.
I held the line.

I made sure my ...

(Ace of Swords – Part 3) 

Memory is a mystery.

Some slip away, locked behind doors we don’t know how to open.
Others wedge themselves into the body—unshakable, sharp, and alive.
Those are the swords...

(Ace of Swords – Part 2) 

We were complete opposites.
At least, that’s what everyone thought.

I was the good girl.
The teacher’s pet.
The one who did her homework, studied, smiled, tried to make eve...

(Inspired by the Ace of Swords card) 

The Ace of Swords struck mid-argument.

Words I didn’t plan. Words I didn’t even know were in me.
They cut through the noise, straight from my soul.

“You’re so ...

Inspired by the Ace of Swords from the Dark Wood Tarot 

It didn’t shatter.
Not right away.

It started as a quiet fracture—like tension in the air before a storm, like glass flexing under pressure.
T...

Wellness wasn’t born from beauty for me.
It wasn’t soft. Or quiet. Or carefully curated.

It was jagged.
Ripped from trauma.
Smelted in grief.
Shattered again before it could take shape.

I didn’t hea...