One night over drinks, a friend said something that has been circling in my head ever since. We were talking about golf, about mechanics and consistency, and how improvement only comes if you’re willing to practice, learn the fundamentals, and repeat the same motion over and over again, but what we were really talking about was doing the work. She works in healthcare, which means she has a front row seat to what happens when people neglect themselves for years and then act su

I hate breakups. And coming from someone who has endured more uncouplings than any reasonable person should have to experience, I feel like my character has been sufficiently built. I saw a meme once where instead of giving someone their soulmate, God gives them another toxic relationship for “character development.” Respectfully, my character is overly developed. Let’s move on. Since this is a Lent post, let’s go back to the desert of Kansas. I had taken my LSAT. Applied to

When I moved to Overland Park, Kansas, I joined a women’s golf league because golf is my happy place, and it gave me an outlet while my life was emotionally, spiritually, and existentially unraveling. It was very different from my Rochester women's league. In Rochester, we absolutely drink Bloody Marys at 7 AM and take Fireball shots after birdies like that’s part of the official rules of golf. Overland Park was quieter. Tee times were at 7 in the morning, and it felt less Gu

I was going to write tonight about my time in the desert. Overland Park, Kansas, to be exact. But I’ll leave that for another day. Because I had a conversation today that made me think about something else entirely. What friendship is supposed to look like. What beloved community actually is. And more importantly, how we intentionally build it. Or destroy it. I heard someone on a podcast say you can tell how much a person loves themselves by the partner they choose. I felt pe

One of the hardest things about starting over is that people remember you for who you were. They remember the capable version. The confident version. The strong version. They don’t always know what to do with the version of you that is lost. Quiet. Uncertain. Unrecognizable. And sometimes, neither do you. When I left everything familiar and went to Kansas City, I wasn’t becoming something new yet. I was deprogramming myself from the life I had built. Untangling my worth from