Meet Me Where I Am


I only posted two times on this blog last year and thinking about it makes me panic a little. This used to be the place where I joined with my community of survivors and seekers. It was my sanity check, my sanctuary and the place where I felt validated and heard.

But when I sit down to write, I feel paralyzed. Times have changed since I last wrote on a regular basis. Social media feels so much bigger as does the pressure to be an “influencer”. I’m struggling with how to balance transparency with healthy boundaries in a world where being “real” means choosing the most flattering filter. I’m not judging. I’ve had thoughts of shutting down my blog but if I ever write a book I’m going to need a place to self-promote. To be clear, I have not written one word of that book.

I’ve toyed with the idea of starting a new blog, completely anonymous so that I could be free to say whatever I want. What would that look like? Maybe something like this… Read More

BWOCs, Crones & Hags


Me, aging gracefully

In my early 30’s I went to the Woman Within weekend in the beautiful mountains outside of Ramona, California. The weekend was a spiritual exploration that taught me about my inner power and it was my first experience with recovery as the path to heal from everything that has ever had a negative impact. We all have something to recover from.

It was there that I was introduced to the concept of the Crone. The Crone represents the last stage of a woman’s life, after the Maiden and the Mother. A Crone is wise and respected for her experience. She is a healer and is sought out for her accumulated knowledge. In the circle of life, her role is positive and valued. Being an old hag wasn’t always a bad thing. Read More


I found one of my abusers on Facebook a few months ago.

Finding him wasn’t as monumental as I thought it would be. I expected it to hit me like a car crash but instead it was more like a wave. I gasped, held my breath and let the wave wash over me. I came up for air. Then the wave was gone and it was just me floating in the calm water.

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Parenting with PTSD book release

Trigger Points Anthology has been re-released as Parenting with PTSD: the impact of childhood abuse on parenting and the Kindle version is available for free on Amazon today! The listed price is $0 so you don’t need to subscribe to Kindle Unlimited to purchase it for free.

Words cannot express how amazing this book is. The stories told by parents/survivors are raw, honest and insightful. If you are an abuse survivor/parent or know someone who is, this book will help you make sense of the unique challenges survivors face while parenting.

I’m proud to be a contributing author.


The Tightrope and Net of Friendship

I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship lately and all the different kinds of friends and levels of friendship it takes to get by in this world.  

My two closest friends could not be more different from each other. One I’ve known since our freshman year in high school. She is my sanity check and the person I go to when I need to think something through. She is the perfect combination of facts and figures, heart and soul. We write verbose emails even though we live in the same town. We share a dark and quirky sense of humor, have a lot of history under our belts and I trust her judgment wholeheartedly.

My other best friend is like my sister. Just walking into the room and seeing her smile makes me feel at ease and gives me a sense of balance. Even if all we’re doing is looking at Pinterest or planning a kid’s birthday party, I know she is my family and tribe. We’ve had plenty of deep conversations but we don’t need them to know what we mean to each other. She’s the person who would help me bury the body, no questions asked.

I have old friends that I don’t see very often and new friendships that are just budding. I’ve made amazing friends through blogging. Work friends, bus stop friends, Facebook friends, they are all vital to my sense of belonging and my need to be a part of a community.

But through it all, these are the types of friends who have shaped me the most. Read More

Dear Body

Dear Body,

Can we be friends?

I know I’m talking to myself and it sounds kind of silly but if I talk to you like a friend maybe you’ll listen.

I need to make amends.

I’ve thought things about you that if I knew anyone else was thinking I’d be crushed.

I’ve said things to you in the mirror that I’d punch someone in the mouth if I heard them say.

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Holding On

“Holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?” – Linkin Park, “Heavy”

I read back through my posts lately and thought why is everything so heavy? This is where I come to wrestle with my demons and reconcile the past with the present. Sometimes it’s heavy stuff but I have entire weeks and months of uneventful moments that would bore you to tears to read about. It’s time to lighten things up a bit. Read More

Back to 17

Old school selfie, circa 1987


I always go back to 17, most often when I’m driving and listening to music. A song will remind me of how much I hated myself that year and I’m back there, looking at 1987 like a white cross on the roadside.

It’s the year I told. It’s the year I lost control of everything. It’s the year I spent two weeks in a psychiatric facility and wished I could stay longer.

The song doesn’t have to be from that time period. All it has to do is speak for me. It has to give voice to what I wish I could’ve said at 17, or give rise to a fantasy of who I could’ve been… Read More

Through the Roof

New growth, new life.

I cried in the shower this morning, which is my favorite place to break down. There’s something about hot water mixing with hot tears that’s comforting and cleansing. And I don’t have to care about messing up my make-up.

I’m just really tired. Some of it is sick and tired but most of it is a bone-tired feeling from a job hard worked and well done. The sick and tired part weighs heavy on me but the satisfied tired feels cathartic.

There’s a story in the Bible that I love about Jesus healing a paralyzed guy. Jesus was teaching to a crowded house and this group of guys wanted him to heal their paralyzed friend. There were too many people there to get their friend right up to Jesus so they got creative and lowered him through a hole they made in the roof. Jesus was impressed by their faith (and probably their tenacity), took one look at the paralyzed guy and said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”

What I find so interesting about this is that Jesus didn’t immediately make him walk again, which of course, he could’ve done. He could’ve changed this man’s circumstances first but I imagine that he looked at the man’s situation and saw that he needed more. He needed to be set free more than he needed to walk again. Read More

What I Pray For You


Marie and my family.

When my friend Marie Pechet died in December, she sent me a spiritual gift. That may sound strange to some of you but anyone who has read her blog or who knew her knows what I’m talking about. Marie was all about spirits, serendipities and God connections. So I wasn’t at all surprised when I felt a strong nudging from her to read a certain book and then found out later that she had died that morning. That’s so Marie.

This post is all about Marie and about so much more than Marie, which I know she’d find delightful.

The morning Marie sent me her gift, I was overwhelmed by anxiety, which had become routine. 2016 was a hard year. I hear a lot of people saying that so I know I wasn’t alone but it wasn’t just politics that troubled me. We sold a house, bought a house, struggled to afford our house, struggled to keep our business afloat and basically struggled to find footing in constantly shifting ground.

I prayed a lot in 2016. I prayed to be financially stable, I prayed to be thinner, I prayed that I wasn’t warping my kids, I prayed that the kittens’ diarrhea would go away, I prayed to not be awoken in the middle of the night by panic and then prayed to be able to go back to sleep. I mostly prayed in the shower and on the toilet because after all, the bathroom is the altar for mothers of young children. Read More