and yet.

I know, I know: a blog. Another blog! In a world where we have daily access into best friends and long lost acquaintances alike, transparency is the new normal and to join now almost feels late in the game. To not have an online presence that showcases only our best selves is considered alternative and shadowy; and if anything describes my (albeit, forever private) music collection, it is alternative and shadowy of the most embarrassing kind. And yet.

I see the world mostly through words, people, pictures and food. Eating, celebrating, cooking, even grocery shopping- don't even get my started on the joy that is grocery shopping. And I'm also a woman who's struggl(ing/ed) with at eating disorder- manifesting most physically in anorexia a few years ago, but seeping its way into my heart and mind throughout most of my days. Part of me doesn't want to write about that because it feels raw still, and the culture tells me all sorts of lies like I should be over it by now, or that full health looks like incorporating certain nutrients and exercise routines together so as to look and feel like a normal person- no longer feeling dark or sad inside, no longer in need of 'help' in any casual or professional form. But you know what? I think that body, food, and humanity are inexplicably and expansively connected, and that we all have our wounds and fractures that are just as fun to talk about as, say, vacuuming after a glitter explosion or undergoing minor dental surgery in the pre-novacaine era.

This I know: if I am saved, it is only in moments of sacred 'me too's' and with that connection comes bravery, and with it comes courage. But it also means showing up. 

In the coming weeks, you'll also see big changes here- moves, flights, goodbyes that feel so heartbreaking and beginnings that feel so hopeful. My life is on the cusp of many a transition, in both physical space and otherwise-- things to be seen and talked about. And I need a space for all of it that forces me to slow down and write– both life saving in their own rights.

So, welcome. I'm happy you're here.