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Why I’m Starting Over (Again) I used to write. A lot. Back when I believed that my voice mattered. Back when I didn’t overthink the value...

Sometimes I wonder if life has already slipped past me. At 35, my body feels like it knows something I don’t—it rushes, it aches with...

Dear Me, I see you. I see the seeds you planted on quiet, lonely days. I see the hopes you carried even when they felt too heavy. I see...

Another year around the sun, and I’m here, reflecting on the unexpected beauty of it all. When I was younger, I had a very clear picture...