Welcome to the river

Gull River, Eagle Lake, Ontario

I am so glad you’re here. Welcome to a safe place to feel seen, heard and hopefully ( If I’m doing my job correctly right now) safe. Full disclosure: this is the second time I’ve played with a blog site, but this time feels way more important to me. Plus I deleted the old one and all it’s content, so there is THAT. Why a blog site ( again)? To be completely transparent, and I know there’s a ton of pros out there doing it better than I am, I have felt for most of my life that I couldn’t find a connection to other people who were experiencing the things I was experiencing in life. Namely – emotions and sensitivities, deep dives into deep conversations about this thing called life, and a safe place to do so. Don’t get me wrong, I am no Brene Brown or Glennon Doyle. But I AM ME. 100%. Why should you give a shit about that? I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t. But what I know for sure is this: if at least ONE PERSON feels seen and heard on this blog site, then my work here is done. Funny enough, that’s kind of been my personal mission since I was a kid in elementary school.


“I spent over forty years of my life struggling to feel seen, heard and unconditionally accepted for who I was. So I showed up as an impersonation of who I thought others wanted, in every single fucking context of my life. The best or closest to perfect version of a friend, sister, daughter, partner, professional- you name it. What others gave to me I mimicked. Because I had zero fucking clue who I was supposed to be in order to feel safe.”

Why didn’t I feel safe? Well poor old sorrowful me is an adoptee, was bullied beyond compare through my childhood, lived and was raised by the most loving people who had no clue how to navigate the psychological needs of an adoptee and who brought me into their family ‘ to make them happy’ again after severe familial grief. And when I didn’t perform as needed- sunny, bright, happy, joyful- an instrument of happy, I was misunderstood. Partner all of these early and formative experiences with my bad ass Joan Jett loving early teenage years and my emotional instability became weaponized within my family and still is to this day. Several serious traumas later, ending in a house fire in 2014 had me completely knocked on my ass and grappling for identity through the harried and wholly unpredictable PTSD that was a special gift given to me following that event.

Am I special? Not a fucking chance.

Am I imperfectly human? You betcha!

Are you? Absolutely.

If this feels good to you. If you’re picking up what I’m throwing down, then join me. It’s comfy riverside. We can curl up together through shared communication and experiences and just hold the space for one another. Because what is absolutely clear to me at this stage of my middle aged life is that to be seen, heard and understood unconditionally is the cornerstone to finding ourselves and loving ourselves through the messy middle of our lives. And to perhaps, maybe, be a little gentler with ourselves and others.

Welcome. I see you. I hear you. I am you. Let’s do this thing.