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“I am not who you think I am.” He released his grip on my hand to turn down the volume as he spoke. Michael Learns to Rock now a barely audible hum in the background of a conversation that arrived so abruptly my mind did not fully comprehend what was happening. • We were ten
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An ex-boyfriend recently got married. He did in three months what was discussed twice over the course of our two years together. That is a blame I cannot put all on him, though. I take ownership over that fate for us. • I am generous to say this man had one romantic bone in his
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“I could see that for myself,” I said. Nearly in a whisper. Part of me petrified to speak it out loud and admit the undeniable pull I have been feeling to “settle down” a bit.Not in spirit. I will never allow that to happen again.Nor will I ever choose people to demand that of me
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“So, if no cornhole yet, could I encourage you to do at least one small thing for your enjoyment? Maybe just take an evening to yourself with a good drink, taking in the scenery on your balcony.”I have sent him a few videos of my view, knowing full well New Jersey is not offering mountains
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“Well, the big life update question is have you played corn hole yet?”I let out a laugh.I think of him every single time I walk past it at work; the smile that coincides with the thought’s presence sure to give away to anyone watching I am smitten by a memory…or person…or both.And when the prospects
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9:32pm.A quick tap on my phone revealed this indicator that I was close to being able to say I endured another day.•Endure (verb); to suffer patiently, to experience and deal with something that is painful or unpleasant without giving up.Synonyms: bear, tolerate, withstand, face up to•There are countless other words I could have placed in
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He was different from the last time I saw him…more than just the hair.He was reserved. But not in an inauthentic way. Honestly, he was more himself than ever before.“Mr. I Do Not Sing” sitting in my passenger’s seat belting out “Alone” by Halsey.“This is my favorite song of hers!” he said as he heard
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“Before we do this, I have to ask…do you trust me?”We were heading towards my car when I posed the question.He took one path and I another, a glaringly obvious display of how differently our brains operate.He cut straight through the grass.And then there was me who walked left down the sidewalk and then down
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From February 22, 2024..•I woke up today with no plans for my birthday except to take advantage of my free Starbucks drink.From which Starbucks? Your guess would have been as good as mine.In my dream world, I would have found the Starbucks (at least that is what I thought it was) right beside a gas
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For the past 715 days I have been on the hunt for a particular Starbucks. One I drove to immediately after landing in Utah during my second trip here in February 2022…a trip I told people was designed to show me if I wanted to move to the state. Truth is, I already knew that
The Story…
About Me
I am a woman on a mission to turn her pain into purpose using her passion for writing. This blog is the journey of my becoming, excerpts from the pages of my book of life – the good and bad and everything in between – written with the intent to heal, to guide, to inspire…
I write to document the tale of a heroine slaying every dragon that comes her way for she knows she is the only one who can save herself.
I write to tell the story of a woman brought back to life; a chronicle of rebirth to show the power of hope and redemption.
I write to give meaning to every yes spoken – whether in shouts or whispers, in fear or bravery.
I write to share with the world the story of what happens when one believes in the beauty of a better tomorrow. What happens when one refuses to settle for anything less than butterflies. What happens when a mere spark you defiantly declined to let go out ignites into an inferno.
I write to open the eyes of all those who feel like the victim in their own story to see that they are not helpless or damaged or weak. They are in control. They have everything within to become the victor.
I write to speak life into the grieving to allow words laced in truth and love to mend the wounds inhibiting the heart from moving forward.
I write for the invisible to feel seen. I write to lead us all on the journey to the happily ever after….it is waiting to be lived by each of us <3
Clandestine Confessions 