Continuing My Path

If you’ve followed my writing for a while, you may consider yourself used to my fits and starts. During this … More

My Bendy Brain: Mental Health and Ehlers-Danlos

Before I go too far, let me preface this. Unlike some of my articles that have been extensively researched, this … More

Where I’m From: An Original Poem

Wondering why I’ve decided to share so many poems lately? Well, tomorrow, March 21st IS World Poetry Day! Here’s my … More

How Irish Am I?

When my daughter and her husband bought me a DNA test for my birthday a few years ago, I was … More

Wait, Didn’t You Become A Nun?!

For over half a century of my life, I had been sexually attractive to someone. I just wanted that part to stop. I just wanted someone to see the daughter of God that I was, and not a piece of meat to use.

The Ink in Our Veins

When I entered the family history center that stormy April afternoon, I had one thing on my mind; I had never seen a photo of my father’s father. I was 46 and I had never seen my grandfather’s face.

I typed his name into the search bar on the site, Newspapers.com, “George R. Slighte,” the results came back instantly.

I Have Her Name

My grandma, who I simply called, “Grandma,” but whom everyone else called by her middle name, “Ellen,” was my confidant when I was a growing girl. It was with her that I saw my first music video on a late-night television show after Grandpa went to bed.