Update on what I’ve been thinking about and a TikTok that sparked the thoughts behind this episode. 

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After therapy, I found myself thinking about my grandmother, and realized something: I cannot conjure her face from memory without looking at a photograph.

...but I can see her hands.

Her hands teaching my little brown girl hands how to work, how to cook, how to farm, how to care for myself and others.

Hands performing tasks.

And somewhere inside that realization is a much larger question: Who was the woman behind those hands?

What did she dream about? What did she love? What did she dislike? What did she want for herself beyond the roles assigned to her as a woman, wife, mother, and grandmother?

This episode is for Martha Lou Brown.

Because she deserves her name.

She deserves her flowers.

And she deserves to be remembered as a whole woman—not just a pair of hands.

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Grief has a way of revealing what we couldn't see while we were living through it.

In this deeply personal episode, I reflect on the quiet sadness that surfaced during my morning shadow work and the realization that healing isn't simply about letting someone go—it's about grieving every moment you didn't choose yourself.

I explore what it means to honor your own boundaries, tell yourself the truth, and take responsibility for the outcomes that come from abandoning your own needs without falling into shame or blaming others. Along the way, I wrestle with a difficult question: If the healthiest version of someone you loved came back into your life, would you finally be able to show up differently?

We also unpack one of the most uncomfortable truths about personal growth: you don't become better at relationships by avoiding them. Healthy relationships don't simply comfort us—they expose us. Our triggers, our conflicts, and even our grief become invitations to deeper healing.

This episode is an honest meditation on heartbreak, accountability, intimacy, and the courage it takes to choose yourself—not in isolation, but in connection with others.

If you've ever found yourself missing someone while simultaneously recognizing that your greatest work is becoming the person who can fully honor herself, this conversation is for you.

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Anyone can observe.

A witness remains present.

A witness resists the impulse to fix, rescue, minimize, or turn away. A witness says, I see what is here. I will not deny it. I will not abandon you because it makes me uncomfortable.

That kind of presence is transformative. "Skotara", a.k.a. The Astute Femme on Threads, TikTok, and Instagram, has done exactly that and more for me as a friend-- and as a sister.

Real healing often begins not when someone gives us the perfect advice, but when someone is willing to sit beside us long enough that we stop believing we have to face our darkness alone.

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For a long time, I believed I was carrying a mother wound.

Recently, I've begun to realize that the story was incomplete.

Trigger Warning! Physical, mental, and emotional abuse is discussed!

I explore the reality that the deepest pattern in my life didn't begin with my mother, but with the only father I ever truly knew: my grandfather. A brilliant, complicated man who taught me to think, reason, write, and question everything—while also shaping the invisible beliefs I carried about love, worth, intelligence, and what it means to be enough.

This isn't an episode about assigning blame or me attempting to rewrite history. It's an exploration of inheritance—of how we can receive extraordinary gifts and painful wounds from the same hands.

As always, these are not conclusions. They're field notes from an ongoing investigation into my own psyche.

I'm starting to see, and you are my witness. Thank you.

Sometimes healing isn't about finding the answers. Sometimes it's about finding someone who has already walked through the darkness and can remind you to keep going.

In this voice note, I reflect on voice notes with a friend who I will call The Lantern Bearer, whom I have named Praevia— [Latin] "the one who has gone before"- whose hard-earned wisdom has become a source of hope when I can't yet see what's waiting on the other side of this process. I also explore what it really means to choose yourself, especially when that choice feels lonely, uncertain, or at odds with the life you've always known.

This is a conversation about trusting the process, honoring your own becoming, and remembering that growth rarely feels like growth while you're living it. 

If you're in the middle of rebuilding your life and wondering whether the work is worth it, this voice note is for you.

If this voice note found you when you needed it, I'm glad it did.

This started with the voice notes I leave friends and myself. Ones where I’m sharing random thoughts and musings at 4:30am and others where I’m trying to make sense of heartbreak, purpose, identity, and the oh so strange process of becoming someone new. 

This is the beginning. This is where I share why I decided to stop waiting until I felt polished, certain, and “ready” before allowing myself to be seen. This is an introduction to this podcast and the space I hope to create: a space where authenticity, curiosity, and honesty matters more than perfection, and questions are more valuable than answers.

if you have ever felt like you’re rebuilding your life, confronting the parts of yourself you’ve hidden away, or are simply trying to understand your own story, these voice notes might be for you. 

Welcome.