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.