
Recovery Through Love. No Anesthesia. No Bullshit. 🥰
I spent months grieving what I lost. Then one Tuesday the grief shifted into something I didn’t have a word for yet. Not sadness. Not anger. Bewilderment. A deep, disorienting, almost embarrassing what the actual fuck was I tolerating? I had been pouring everything into people who were treating me like a resource. Emotional support…
For months the past kept showing up uninvited. Mind games. Hypervigilance. Plans I changed out of dread. I almost let it work. But recently something crystallized, I finally saw clearly what I was dealing with, and something in my nervous system just released. This is what seeing the light actually looks like. Not a dramatic…
This piece was written after avoidance failed and accountability became unavoidable. Behind Old Bellingham City Hall, with the bass of Drowning in the Drip grounding me in my body, I stayed present with the harm I caused, the consequences I earned, and the amends I am making without asking for forgiveness. This is not a…
I woke up anxious and didn’t run. I faced anxiety and didn’t spiral. Thirty-seven days sober in the hardest season of my life, I chose movement over meltdown and discipline over drama. This dance isn’t performance. It’s proof. Identity death cracked me open, and what came back is steadier, sharper, and done selling out.