Category: Love In Retrograde
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The Confession Hiding in the “About Me” Section When I first built my author website, I was thinking clean, professional, predictable — a digital business card for my books. I didn’t plan on bleeding all over the keyboard. I figured I’d post a few updates, maybe some behind-the-scenes thoughts about writing. Simple. Safe. But something…
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I used to think gaslighting was just a buzzword people tossed around on TikTok.Now I know it’s a slow erosion of the soul—an unraveling of your reality that makes you question everything, especially yourself. As someone who’s lived through it, I’ve learned this truth the hard way:manipulation doesn’t always look like screaming or slamming doors.Sometimes…
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The Town That Still Knows My Name I live in a ghost town. Not the kind with boarded windows and dust in the corners, but one haunted by memory. Every street, every cracked sidewalk, every flickering porch light carries a version of me I didn’t mean to leave behind.The memories hit hard and without my…
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Let’s Get This Out of the Way Yes, I expect to feel special on my birthday.No, it doesn’t take much.And yes, I’m fully aware I sound like a birthday snob. But here’s the truth behind the spell: I Shared Everything Growing Up—Including My Damn Birthday I share a birthday with three family members, two high…
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Trip #1: Girls Day (+ Ryan) We parked in the south lot, where the adventure already begins. Before the gates even come into view, you’re funneled down a long wooded stretch that feels more like a secret passageway than a parking path. It’s the perfect prelude—like the trees themselves know you’re stepping into another world.…
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✨ A Hex, a Heart, and a Heavy Sigh ✨ I’m writing this last-minute because a 17-year-old pregnant girl was killed in a road rage shooting in Louisiana earlier this week. Her baby survived—but she is without a mother now because someone chose violence instead of empathy. The Rage We Don’t Name Not the muttered…
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Or: How I Learned to Stop Apologizing and Just Snap the Shot Born With a Lens in Hand I am a photographer.Not just by trade—but by instinct, by heart, by survival. I document life.Always have. Always will.(If there’s no photo, did it even happen?) A Family of Memory Hoarders I come from a long line…
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The Myth of the Marriage Bed Society treats the shared bed like the final scene of a rom-com: two people under one quilt, fade to black, happily ever after. Somewhere along the way, that image became gospel. If you don’t share a bed, you must not share love. But here’s the truth: not every couple…