Like most middle school people, I was very unfortunate-looking, and my self-esteem was nonexistent. My body was changing, and I could see the changes in others; it was a confusing time full of comparison and judgment. I desperately wanted to be cool, but I also desperately wanted not to be me.

This morning, I was up and walking around, trying to get my kids ready for school. They had woken me up with pleasant snuggles and whispered birthday greetings in my ear. It all started out great, but it soon turned into little moments of chaos as we all got ready for the day. My daughter has been enjoying sick days on the couch, so she has started asking to be home. I had to tell her no several times, and then console her when she didn't get her wish. My son typically wander

There is a way we see anger. Hysterical. Erratic. Unstable. Anger becomes excess. Grief becomes insanity. Tears become evidence of brokenness— instead of proof that something is real. So we learn to quiet ourselves. To repress what is heavy. To carry what has nowhere else to go. This is accumulation. We are told it’s a requirement. To hide anger, grief. To quietly ferry the emotions of our ancestors. Generations have watched their children their bodies, their innocence, their

We flew in on a tiny plane, not really knowing what to expect. The Isle of Lewis and Harris, the Hebrides islands just north of mainland...

I recently went to London for a little solo break. I wanted to see some West End shows and walk around the city for a few days. Since I moved to Iceland, I've been trying to travel a little more and mark off some bucket list items. I love the theatre and I don't go enough. My hotel was about an hour's walk to the theatre, and there was a transportation strike when I arrived. It basically started the day I arrived and ended the day I left, like the universe was telling me I ne

Moving to a new country is never simple. Three years into my Icelandic journey, I’m still navigating uncertainty, regret, resilience, and...

A harmful wave of sunlight shines, burning brightly, distracting avoidance. Hope isn't necessarily darkness— discovering a path towards glimpses of light. Learning in solitude, searching for something deep within to find. Immersed in meaningful words that turn insignificant, deceptions to smiles. Who am I meant to be—someone, to be—something, to find joy in being?

When I was growing up, I went to church camp on the Oregon Coast. The camp has been there for quite some time. For example, there’s a...

Young, smooth and labile Trusting with good intentions Earned through confident words Inflecting swaying candour. Put your hands here...