Don’t get your panties in a wad. It’s not that bad.

I long to be a perfect, finished product.

My first marriage was riddled with lying and poor communication. I was now committed to talking things through, being brutally honest.

I want the freedom to be me. With or without money. No elevation of status. No embarrassment. Just me.

Sometimes following the rules doesn’t pay off.

At some point you just have to let go of what you thought should happen and live in what is happening.

My brokenness is a better bridge for people than my pretend wholeness ever was.

I kept having a vision of singing over my grandpa, but I couldn’t make out the song.

Do I stretch or settle? How do I know?

Historically, I haven't made “good” food decisions. Could someone, please, just tell me what to eat?

If only the sweetest moments could last forever.

I admire flexible people. They roll with the punches. Never get flustered.

The quieter you become, the more you can hear.

The only time you should look in your neighbor’s bowl is to make sure that they have enough...

I was smitten. Helpless. Putty.

Sometimes I forget who I am and how I’m wired.

Emotions hijacked my brain. It was flight or flight.

Processing loss is worthy of our time and focus.

Who says I can’t pee like my brother?

If you don’t heal what hurt you, you’ll bleed on people who didn’t cut you.

If only our eyes saw souls instead of bodies, how different our ideals of beauty would be.

When faced with extreme emotions, I want to be alone.

Tell me what to do … please.

A ravenous, animal-like drive set in … to avoid pain.