This piece was written after avoidance failed and accountability became unavoidable. Behind Old Bellingham City Hall, with the bass of Drowning in the Drip grounding me in my body, I stayed present with the harm I caused, the consequences I earned, and the amends I am making without asking for forgiveness. This is not a…
At sunset on the pier, in the middle of grief I didn’t know how to finish feeling, a complete stranger stepped into my life and quietly changed everything. She didn’t ask for details, explanations, or context. She offered warmth, presence, and long, steady hugs that held my nervous system when words couldn’t. For thirty minutes,…
Pure play downtown. A sober night dancing to Confusion. Improvised movement, loud bass, zero agenda. Just fun, presence, and creative freedom.
I woke up anxious and didn’t run. I faced anxiety and didn’t spiral. Thirty-seven days sober in the hardest season of my life, I chose movement over meltdown and discipline over drama. This dance isn’t performance. It’s proof. Identity death cracked me open, and what came back is steadier, sharper, and done selling out.