​I started writing because I needed a space that wasn't just for me to hold. ​There was a season in my life when I suddenly found myself without the therapeutic space I'd come to rely on. Conversations that would have been brought into session no longer had anywhere to go. Questions lingered. Feelings piled up. I needed somewhere they could exist outside of me. ​Writing quietly became that place. ​Therapy often leaves me carrying conversations long after I walk out of the office. There are moments that stay with me for days, questions that refuse to settle, and experiences I'm not ready to move on from. Writing gives me somewhere to keep sitting with them instead of feeling like I have to understand them immediately. ​For a while, that's all this was. ​A notebook that slowly became a website. ​A place that could hold what I couldn't. ​Over time, though, it became something more. ​As I continued through therapy, I realized how many things I wish someone had explained to me when I was first starting. Concepts that would've made the process less confusing. Books that changed the way I understood myself. Small shifts in perspective that made difficult seasons feel a little less lonely. ​I wanted to create the kind of resource I wish I'd had. ​ Most of what you'll find here wasn't written with an audience in mind. My essays are still, more than anything, a place where I process what's happening in my own life. They're how I make sense of experiences after I've lived them. ​The resources are different. Those are intentionally here for anyone who might be looking for a place to begin, or simply trying to understand themselves a little better. If my writing resonates with someone else, or helps them feel a little less alone in whatever they're carrying, I'm genuinely grateful. ​But this space doesn't exist because I have answers. ​It exists because writing has helped me ask better questions.