For years, when laying our sleepy heads, I whisper in her ear:
Thank you for choosing me, again, today.
Then she echoes: thank you for choosing me.
Every Story Needs a First Page
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For years, when laying our sleepy heads, I whisper in her ear:
Thank you for choosing me, again, today.
Then she echoes: thank you for choosing me.
This past weekend my bonus daughter asked me to officiate her wedding.
The third young woman walked off the stage and I did the math.
I looked to my left. I looked to my right.
My biggest discovery? I have always been a writer and a poet. I just forgot over the years.
There’s a personality type I avoid like a ‘We need to talk’ text.
High-energy. Overpromising. Charismatic.
Male. Female. Doesn’t matter.
All my life, I’ve been afraid to share my joy. My corny personality.
But that’s how I’m wired.
That’s how I show up in the real world. So I’ve decided to share those parts anyway. Even more now that I’m old AF and give fewer effs.
Before I started dancing, I didn’t realize how much of myself I’d been holding back.
Last year I had to admit something to myself.
I haven’t always been a good friend.
Nothing scandalous. Just the kind of mistake you make when you’re young, ambitious, and ignorant.
Wearing the logo doesn’t make you legendary. It makes you a billboard.
I used to think certain things would make me feel seen, like I had finally “made it.” But chasing that feeling through stuff? It never lasts.
I didn’t know how to run a business, but I was also conflicted about what work was supposed to feel like.
Every month, I print 10 photos, small moments that matter enough to keep. While the world scrolls past thousands of images, I choose to hold mine in my hands, feel the paper, and turn the pages.
Things or People That Bring Me Joy