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The Weirdest Coincidence I’ve Ever Experienced
People sometimes ask me this question at readings. What’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to you, the kind of moment that makes you wonder if the universe is paying closer attention than we give it credit for? I used to give a polite, forgettable answer. Then I’d go home and think about the real…
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The Best Restaurant in My City
If someone asked me to name the best restaurant in my city, I could recommend a fashionable bistro, an elegant steakhouse, or one of those hidden neighborhood places everyone guards like a secret. But lately, the best restaurant in my city is much closer to home. It is called Casa Grachek. Reservations are never required.…
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The Lost Art of Listening
What’s a skill I consider basic that most people don’t actually know how to do? Listening. Nearly everyone can hear, but very few people truly listen. Hearing is biological. Sound enters the ear, travels through the body, and registers in the brain. Listening is something deeper. It requires intention. It asks us to set aside…
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My Most Relatable Fictional Character
Prompt: Who Is the Fictional Character You Relate to the Most? There are louder heroes than Walter Mitty. There are men who save galaxies, detectives who solve impossible murders, wizards who defeat darkness, and warriors who charge into battle with swords raised toward the sky. None of them ever felt like me. Walter Mitty did.…
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Why
A common question asked of many subjects. Today I’m busy asking myself – why? Why am I so sad? Why do I feel depressed? Where did this “woe is me” come from? Why can’t I have that, do that, feel that? Why did I do the things I did when I was young? Why do…
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The Glove
I did not buy the glove with money. I bought it with patience. That is what nobody tells you about S&H Green Stamps. The store did not feel like a store. It felt like a vault of things you had already half earned. You walked in with a book, or two, or three, pages heavy…
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Inventory
The Adam’s apple in old photographs,a hard comma in the throat’s soft sentence. Shoulders built for a doorwayyou never meant to walk through. The particular wrongness of a swimsuit,size medium, women’s,purchased with shaking handsand worn like a confession. A binder’s compression at 6 a.m.,ribs remembering all daywhat they were flattened for. The five-o’clock shadowrising like…
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A Library in My Pocket
There is a moment every morning before the world begins making demands of me. The coffee is still too hot to drink. The house hasn’t quite decided whether it wants to be awake. Outside, Florida is already stretching toward another humid day, but inside there is only silence—the kind of silence that feels earned. I…
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If I Could Erase One Trend from History
There are plenty of trends I wouldn’t mind seeing disappear from history. Bell-bottoms. Avocado-colored appliances. Eight-track tapes that always seemed to eat themselves at the worst possible moment. Those make for fun conversations. But if I’m honest, there is only one trend I would truly erase. I would erase humanity’s habit of deciding that some…
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I Miss Typewriters
WRITING PROMPT: Which Outdated Technology Do You Miss the Most, and Why? Without hesitation, my answer is the typewriter. Not because it was more efficient. It wasn’t. Not because it was easier. It certainly wasn’t. I miss the typewriter because it made writing feel physical. There was something almost mystical about sitting before a blank…
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The Best Excuse
I have heard a lot of excuses in my life. As a parent, I heard excuses for missed curfews and unfinished homework. As a pastor, I’ve heard reasons people couldn’t forgive, couldn’t serve, couldn’t attend, couldn’t change. As someone who spent years in finance, I heard excuses for missed deadlines, poor investments, and broken promises.…
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To the One I Am Learning to Love
I used to think love was something waiting for me in another’s hands,a gift wrapped in someone else’s approval,a tender look across a crowded room,a whisper at midnight telling me I was enough.I thought love would arrive dressed in someone else’s voice,carrying me away from my own silence.But here I am,after all the years of…
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To The Companion I Never Chose
You have been my most faithful companion.Not the one I prayed for.Not the one I wanted.But the one who keeps showing up anyway,uninvited,unapologetic,unyielding. You are with me when the room is full.When the laughter rises.When glasses are lifted, and plates are passed,and conversations hum like fluorescent lights buzzing overhead.You arrive then, when I am surrounded.You…
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A Fleeting Moment of Hope
In the depths of the closet, the constant thought of suicide was a shadow that never quite left, a whisper that echoed through the darkest corners of my mind. For me, this thought was a relentless companion, a seductive escape from the pain and fear that came with living a life that felt like a…
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To the Day I Stopped Pretending I Was Okay
I remember you.Not the exact date on a calendar, but the feeling—like something inside me gave way.Like the scaffolding I had built to hold everything togetherjust… buckled. I had been holding so much for so long.The grief.The fear.The shame.The exhaustion of smiling through pain,of showing up for others while disappearing inside myself. I wore “okay”…
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To A Life Built on Expectations
Before I ever spoke my truth, I memorized theirs. I was born into a world that handed me a script before I could read. The lines were already underlined, the stage already set:Be strong.Be successful.Be normal.Be straight.Be a man. And I—ever the good student—did everything I could to meet them. There was no room for…
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To the Camera That Helped Me See Beauty
You were just an object.Metal.Glass.Plastic.Buttons and dials.A tool made for capturing light. But to me,you became more than a tool.You became a companion.You became a teacher.You became a lifeline. I picked you up in a seasonwhen I was drowning.When the weight of my own thoughtspressed too heavy on my chest.When I could not find a…
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To My Past Self, Who Thought This Would Never Happen
EXCERPT FROM MY BOOK:Love, Me: Letters I Wrote When I Wanted to Disappear Oh, sweetheart.You had no idea, did you? You believed if you just did everything right—if you stayed quiet, stayed useful, stayed small—you’d be safe.You thought faithfulness guaranteed protection.That God would step in.That love would win.That if you were good enough, obedient enough,…
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What’s the Point?
Yes, what is the bloody point? It’s a question that has haunted me in both quiet moments and in the chaos of loss, transition, and despair. It’s the question that emerges when everything I’ve built begins to crumble, when the masks I’ve worn no longer fit, when the life I thought I had no longer…
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“Whatever”
Coming out of the closet wasn’t a moment. It was a lifetime. A thousand nights staring at the ceiling. Years of smiles that didn’t reach the heart. A marriage built on hope that maybe the feeling would pass. Children who saw only pieces of a person—never the whole. The closet wasn’t just a place. It…
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The Crown
How Will My Brothers and Sister Compete Once Our Mother Dies and There Is No More Favoritism to Be Gained? Our mother’s love has always felt like a battlefield. Not the warm, unconditional kind, but one measured out in doses—earned through obedience and withheld when we dissent. Each of us, her children, has learned to…
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To Leave a Legacy
Legacy is not about monuments or money. It is not merely etched in buildings bearing our names or in bank accounts left to heirs. Legacy is the invisible, enduring imprint we leave on the hearts of others, the values we embody, the love we share, and the courage we demonstrate in our brief time on…
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Approval, Identity, and Coming Home to Myself
There is a particular kind of grief that comes from betraying yourself every day and being rewarded for it. When the world celebrates your mask, you start to believe that the truth of who you are must be monstrous. So you keep hiding. You keep achieving. You keep smiling through the pain. And yet, with…
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When the Words Won’t Come
When crisis strikes a family, like the sudden and life-altering moment when my mother had a stroke, the assumption is that it will bring people closer. The idea is almost romantic: siblings rushing to each other’s sides, comforting one another, rallying around the parent who once raised them. But in my experience, that’s not what…
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“Why Physical Transition?”
The question for me was startling because I had never been asked it in search of my answer. I have been asked in an open-ended way, with a “what are you thinking” mentality, which would require me to explain why I would diverge from my decades-long norm, but I would actually be interested in how…
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Why?
I feel like I’ve lived my life in this exhausting, merciless cycle—closeted, then open, and now back in again. I stepped out; I swear it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Life, I imagined, would be different. Finally, breathe free air, only now being shoved back into that stifling, airless place. I…
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This Morning
This morning, I found myself tucked into a corner seat at a Starbucks, the hum of life unfolding all around me. There’s something about this ritual—the smell of roasted coffee beans mingling with the gentle clatter of ceramic mugs and the low murmur of conversation—that settles me into my skin. It’s not merely the coffee…
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“I Remember When…” — A Reflection from the Sanctuary
I remember when every pew knew the weight of a worshiper.When laughter from children echoed against my rafters, and the harmonies of hymns swelled so boldly they pressed against my stained glass windows like sunlight. Now, the echoes linger longer. I’m just the sanctuary, the old heart of this church. But I’ve seen it all—weddings…
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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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Five-Year-Old’s Dream
When I was five, I didn’t want to be a firefighter, an astronaut, or even a superhero. I wanted to be a garbageman. Not because I had some deep understanding of sanitation logistics or civic responsibility, but because garbagemen got to ride on the back of the truck. To my young eyes, that wasn’t a…
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The Joy of It All
For years, depression had been my shadow, an unwelcome companion that clung to me no matter where I went. It whispered doubts in my ear, drained the color from my world, and wrapped itself around my chest so tightly that breathing felt like a laborious task. I learned to carry it, to mask it with…
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My Ideal Day
My ideal day begins just before sunrise when the world is still quiet, and the air feels fresh with possibility. I wake up naturally, without an alarm blaring—just the soft glow of dawn filtering through my curtains. I stretch, feeling every muscle awaken, then take a moment to breathe deeply, slowly, and gratefully. Slipping into…
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The Weight of Silence
Hello darkness, my old friendI’ve come to talk with you againBecause a vision softly creepingLeft its seeds while I was sleepingAnd the vision that was planted in my brainStill remainsWithin the sound of silence– Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel As I prepared dinner tonight, I listened to a special version of Simon and…
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What Annoys Me the Most
I like to think of myself as a patient person, someone who sees the bigger picture and embraces grace in all things. But let’s be honest—there are some things that get under my skin, and sometimes, I just need to vent. If I had to pinpoint what I complain about the most, I’d say it…
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My Name Means…
My name is Ava. It’s a small word, yet it carries a world of meaning. Names have always held power, shaping identities and bridging the gap between who we are and how others perceive us. For me, Ava is more than just a name; it is a declaration of authenticity, a symbol of transformation, and…
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Communication as Connection
Communication is at the heart of who I am. It’s more than just exchanging words; it’s about connecting with others in genuine, thoughtful, and transformative ways. I’ve spent a lifetime cultivating a style of communication that blends authenticity, empathy, and creativity—a reflection of my journey and the person I continue to become. I’ve always believed…
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Pondering the Past and Future
As I walk this journey of becoming my truest self, I often find myself caught between the past and the future. Both exert a pull on me, shaping my thoughts, emotions, and sense of who I am. They aren’t opposites as much as they are two halves of the same whole—a complex, evolving story that…
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The Greatest Gift Beyond Love
I have finally learned to embrace every twist and turn of my evolving self; I often think of the intangible gifts that truly matter. Love for who I am is undoubtedly a cornerstone—an anchor that keeps me steady in the winds of change. Yet, beyond love, there is a gift that holds equal, if not…
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University for Ava
Attending the University of Nebraska as a CIS-gender male while internally navigating the realities of being a transgender woman likely brought Ava both moments of joy and significant challenges. College is often a pivotal time for self-discovery, growth, and identity exploration; for Ava, these experiences may have been uniquely layered. In the predominantly conservative Midwest,…
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Playtime: Courage, Curiosity, and the Joy of Being Me
Ava sat at her desk, gazing at the open calendar on her computer. Between her pastoral responsibilities and the whirlwind of planning meetings for the church’s new senior living facility, she rarely made time for herself. Tonight, however, was different. She’d circled the date weeks ago, committing to an evening that wasn’t about serving others…
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Personally Political
Publicly declaring my transition has been one of the most transformative experiences of my life—not just personally but politically as well. As I’ve embraced my authentic self, my perspectives on the world have shifted and deepened in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Stepping into the light as a transgender woman has opened my eyes to…
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My Perfect Space
If I could build my perfect space for reading and writing, it would be a dream come alive—a place where I could lose myself in imagined and real stories. My sanctuary would be perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean, where the constant ebb and flow of the waves would remind me that creativity is…
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Happiness is…
The sun breaks through the curtains, brushing my face with its soft, golden light. Mornings like this bring me joy—a quiet moment before the world starts buzzing. I sit in bed, stretch, and glance at the stereo seated near the wall. It’s been my companion for years. Some days, when the house is still open,…
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Lessons From My Past
Ava stood before the mirror, her reflection a blend of who she was and who she was becoming. Past and present coexisted in the glass, like old friends sharing a knowing smile. It was strange but beautiful to recognize the strength in the person she had been before transitioning, to see him not as someone…
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Courage To Live As Me
When I think of Ava, I think of courage—not the loud, brash kind, but the quiet, steady bravery it takes to change your life and risk everything to be true to yourself. Ava is a remarkable woman, but you must know where her story began to understand why. For years, she lived as someone the…
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The Courage to Be Ava
Ava stood before the mirror, adjusting her scarf once more, feeling as though it was the hundredth time. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying the confidence she tried to summon. She had practiced her sermon several times, but this morning felt different. It wasn’t just about the words she would share; it was about who she…
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Embracing Authenticity: A Journey to Confidence
Ava stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the pearl necklace she’d chosen for the evening. The reflection staring back was still new to her, an unfolding chapter of her journey post-transition. Tonight marked her first gala since publicly embracing her authentic self, and while she was confident in her choice of a sleek emerald…
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Writing About Ava
If I Didn’t Need Sleep, I’d Write Stories About Ava. If sleep were no longer necessary, I’d spend those newfound hours weaving tales about Ava, a character who has been quietly residing in my imagination, waiting for her stories to unfold. Ava isn’t just a character; she’s a collection of contrasts—a thread that ties the…
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Becoming Ava
A Journey of Fear, Anxiety, Excitement, and Change The idea of changing my name was not a fleeting thought. It simmered quietly in the back of my mind for years, like a whisper I wasn’t ready to hear. Whenever someone addressed me by my old name, I felt a slight pang of discomfort—a reminder that…
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Awakening —A Short Story
Ava sat on the edge of her bed, the morning light filtering through the pale curtains of her small apartment. Her hands clutched a steaming cup of coffee, the warmth grounding her in a moment she hadn’t always been able to find. Today felt different. It wasn’t just the first day of spring—the first day…
G R A C H E K
Dee Grachek is an author and Presbyterian pastor whose work explores faith, authenticity, identity, and hope through fiction, memoir, and spiritual writing.
Drawing on a life of ministry and personal transformation, Dee writes emotionally honest stories that invite readers to discover grace, courage, belonging, and the enduring power of unconditional love.
Dee is passionate about helping others find the courage to live authentically and discover a God whose love is wider than our fears, with writing marked by emotional honesty, theological depth, and an abiding conviction that every person’s story matters.