We take on roles and jobs that slowly suffocate the creative spark we were born with. The juice. The muse. The quiet, insistent voice that says, This is what you’re here to make.

"This blog is part of my writing studio. This is where I can invite others to share their perspective and to consider where my views on humanity meets theirs."

This is one of the hardest truths to write: achievement doesn't heal childhood trauma. You can build a beautiful life, earn degrees, create a family, and still feel like that displaced child inside.

Certain songs, smells, places, or objects become emotional landmines. They transport you instantly back to the worst moments. In memoir, these sensory triggers are gold—they're the details that help readers feel what you felt.

Then there are times when music takes you to where you've been, kind of like on a train ride. You just watch the years that came before. Who you were, the people that came and went. How you used to wear a scarf or a hat or high-heeled shoes and now you're all about understated comfort.