Tell Me a Story

Imagine you’ve encountered something ridiculous in your life and you can’t quite wrap your head around it. You’re left going, “What the [bleep] just happened?” Then your big sister comes and puts her arm around your shoulders and says, “Let’s take a walk.” You’re about to learn something.

Every bad relationship, every new travel adventure, every boundary crossed, I’ve asked myself, “Okay, what have I learned from this?” After all, we can’t change what’s already passed. Might as well reflect and log that lesson into the recesses of your psyche.

What I Write

I write about all the messy (and fun) parts of relationships: dating, sex, marriage, divorce, and parenting. I mostly write for divorced mothers, like me, so that they can laugh or rage along, but also for anyone awed by the ridiculousness of dating in midlife.

Since I’m currently pitching my book, Without Youa memoir about intergenerational divorce and poverty, I also write about class struggles and what it’s like to write traumatic personal narratives.

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A small round café table beside a rain-speckled window holds a single stemless wine glass filled halfway with deep red wine, a square black notebook, and a neatly folded linen napkin. On the notebook’s cover rests a hotel key card and a lipstick-smeared cocktail stirrer, suggesting an unfinished story. Outside the window, the city is softly blurred into colorful evening bokeh—neon signs, car lights, and wet pavement glistening. Warm interior lighting contrasts with the cool, rainy twilight beyond, creating a sophisticated, slightly mischievous mood. Photographic realism, captured from a low, intimate angle with shallow depth of field, the composition leans on the rule of thirds, inviting the viewer into the charged pause between dating encounters and private reflection.