• A Desire to Disappear

    A Desire to Disappear

    Some kids were obsessed with bicycles. Some with baseball cards, cartoons, or treehouses. Me? I was obsessed with hiding. Not hide-and-seek. Not the playful kind of hiding where someone counts to twenty while children laugh and scramble behind furniture waiting to be discovered. I mean real hiding. The kind where I did not want anyone…

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  • I Wasn’t Born Yesterday

    I Wasn’t Born Yesterday

    “I didn’t just survive. I became. And I’m still becoming.” 🌿 I Wasn’t Born Yesterday I was born again… at fifty-eight. But the world only sees what’s new — the name, the hair, the linen clothes, the long-overdue freedom. What they don’t see — unless I tell them — is what it took to get…

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