Writing

  • The Low-Tide Dweller

    I found myself on an island at the edge of the world. The tide sounded as it had in another time, long before, when I first came here. Its voice had not changed, only I had. I pitched a small tent on the sand. Inside it were three beings: my present self, my younger self…

  • BetterHelp, Part One: What’s In A Title?

    There’s something immediately uneasy about the word better. It carries with it a sense of hierarchy, of comparison, of one thing being placed above another. In a therapeutic context, this feels jarring. The implication—however softly it’s spoken—is that what you’ve known, what you’ve been doing, who you’ve been seeing, is somehow less. Less than what?…

  • Being Open About Vulnerability

    I keep coming back to this distinction in my work: openness is not the same as vulnerability. They often get conflated, but they feel completely different in the body, and the difference between them matters—especially in therapy. Openness feels like an outward gesture. It lives in the chest, expands, speaks. It’s a way of saying,…

  • Inside, A Still Voice

    There are moments when nothing appears to hold, and yet something does. Not visibly. Not with reassurance or words. But with a quietness that remains. It doesn’t step in. It doesn’t interfere. It doesn’t even call itself love. But its presence is unmistakable. It meets experience as it is, without asking it to become anything…

  • To Love Is To Be Present

    Your partner says something. You feel a reaction swell in your chest. You want to defend yourself. You think they’re wrong. You feel a lot—hurt, frustrated, maybe misunderstood. But instead of reacting the way you might have done in the past, you go and sit down. Your partner doesn’t rush to sit with you. They…