Healing out loud
Essays about the parts nobody puts on a shirt.
New every Tuesday and Thursday at 9am · Free to read, nothing to sign up for
I Paid Eight Strangers to Tear Apart the Most Personal Thing I've Ever Made
I hired strangers to judge the most personal thing I've ever made. What eight brutal reviews taught me about criticism, consent, and the feedback...
The Same Week I Got Rejected, I Launched the Thing I'm Proudest Of
I got rejected from a job I wanted badly — the same week I launched the thing I'm proudest of. On shame, rejection, and...
It Took 12 Years to Find Out Why I Was Always Tired
It took 12 years to learn my exhaustion had a name. What narcolepsy actually is, what Hollywood gets wrong, and why Rest Is Productive...
Measuring My Worth in Output Is the One Goal I'm Dropping
I treated my worth as something I had to earn through doing. Here's the homework my therapist gave me, the loop I'm unlearning, and...
Why I Put My Trauma on T-Shirts
A therapist called my trauma-humor designs "belittling and demeaning." Here's why I put my trauma on t-shirts anyway — and who they're really for.
I Applied to 27 Jobs in a Panic. Here's What I Actually Needed.
I applied to 27 jobs in one afternoon after a hard morning. It wasn't ambition — it was panic. On the difference between building...
They Don't Believe Me
On being disbelieved by the people who should have protected you. Their disbelief is not evidence about what happened to you. It is evidence...
The Test That Made Me Feel Broken (and Why the Test Was the Broken One)
A timed test said I had 'room for improvement.' But the test was built for a brain that isn't mine. On the difference between...
Healing Isn't Linear (And Today Was a Backward Day)
Some days healing looks like waking from nightmares about the people who hurt you, foggy and behind and sure you're failing everyone. On the...
Being Good at My Job Was Never the Same as Being Safe
I was good at my job. I planned to retire there. None of it protected me. On the quiet lie that competence equals safety...
Their Pain Is Not Their Progress
The only thing that changed in three years was me. I've turned that sentence over a hundred times, looking for the flaw in it,...
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