Life's Love Letter: A Letter to My Life

  I remarried about ten years ago. After two horrid relationships, I finally stopped pointing the finger outward and asked myself a harder question: Was there something about the men I was choosing… and trying to save? So I did something completely different. I chose someone completely different. Years before that, I had gone to a psychic. She told me the person I was with at the time was not my soulmate. She said I would meet someone new, that the relationship would move quickly, and to “just go with it.” When I met John, I knew. Our conversations flowed effortlessly. We would spend hours texting and talking every single day. When my feelings started deepening, I asked him where he saw this going. At that point, we hadn’t even met in person yet. He told me he just wanted to be “texting buddies.” I said that was fine. I could always use another friend. But by December of 2014, we decided to finally meet. Our first date lasted eight hours. I knew he was the one. He is k...

  Speaking the Truth, Even When It’s Uncomfortable I know I’m going a bit off topic this morning. But I do my best writing when I’m emotionally attached to what I’m sharing. This blog has always been a kind of public journal for me. My hope is simple: to let people know they are not alone. I speak my truth—whether it’s right or wrong—because it’s my truth. So let’s talk about the elephant in the room: the Epstein files. Whenever I see an email with names blacked out, or hear people whisper about “the list,” I feel a pit in my stomach. It’s a heavy wave of sadness. It’s 2026, and I watch other countries confront horrific acts head-on—holding people accountable, issuing apologies, acknowledging survivors. And yet here, that accountability feels painfully absent. I refuse to call these women victims . They are survivors . A survivor is someone who endures the storm and comes out the other side. A victim is a label that traps people in a moment. These women are far more than that....