Love & Connection

For much of my life, I craved being seen-not just noticed, not admired, not even loved in the ways that make for pretty pictures or...

This morning, I took the first bite of scrambled eggs by the ocean. Just eggs, nothing elaborate. Paired with a slice of fried plantain,...

It wasn’t the tree or lights that made it magic it was a stranger’s kindness and a whispered answer: most likely, you’ll make it.

I became a mother before I became a woman. This piece reflects on the journey of raising children while still becoming myself, and the quiet longing for a kind of motherhood that comes from love, choice, and wholeness- not survival.

I became a mother before I became whole. But she didn’t wait for perfect—she arrived anyway, a miracle disguised as a detour. In giving birth to her, I found the strength I never knew I had and the love I had always longed for. She didn’t just change my life. She made it mine.

It wasn’t that love didn’t exist. It just couldn’t meet me where I was becoming. And that’s when I knew the chapter was closing.

Ten years ago, I stepped off a plane and into Rome with a backpack and a shattered name. I was thirty, newly divorced, a mother of two,...

I searched for love in others, but it came in quiet moments, in my own breath, my own becoming, when I chose to come home to myself.

Written in the quiet aftermath of my second divorce - a night of tea, thunder, and the music that helped me come home to myself.