Hello.

It’s been quite some time. I’m a different person now. I’m a mother, which has changed everything I ever knew about humanity or life or womanhood. It is a dance. An incredibly complicated and breath-taking dance.

I’ve wanted to edit this space for so long. For a while, I thought I’d just give it up. But here I am, holding onto it. Holding onto this space for story-telling.

In July, my grandmother died. I wasn’t ready for it. No one ever is, I suppose. And since then, I’ve found myself either feeling the need to write constantly or not having a single word to say. But at the bottom of all of my grief, my uncertainty, my stress, there are stories. Waiting.

Writing is such a part of who I am, and I’ve come to realize that any type of writing — journals, blogs, essays, poetry, or otherwise — is what I need to be doing. Writing feeds my soul. It makes me feel connected to myself in a way that nothing else can.

And so, I am here. I am writing. I am not here to give you tips or to provide how-to guides. I am not here to tell you the best jeans for fall or what skincare I like best. All of those things served me at a time, but I don’t think they serve me now. To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what I will bring here. But I hope I can be honest, open, vulnerable, and meaningful. I hope I can tell the stories that are always swimming around inside my chest.

I cannot offer much to the world, but I can offer my words. I hope you’ll join me.