Open Writing Circle
What would it look like if you took the time to write? For yourself? Just one hour a week? Join our free writing circle.
Open Writing Circle Read More »
Writing Stories for Healing and Connection
Learn more about a story writing workshop hosted by Brit Stueven and Eunice Brownlee
Writing Stories for Healing and Connection Read More »
Listen To Your Mother Holiday Edition
Don your ugliest holiday sweater and join these nine amazing moms as they share their best holiday tales.
Listen To Your Mother Holiday Edition Read More »
on my terms.
I never saw it coming if I’m going to be totally honest. There was nothing to indicate that this day was going to be different than any other day. My boss scheduled a 1:1 with me and I was excited to talk to her about how well the project I had just delivered was going.
continued.
The court process is not quick. In fact, the wheels of justice turn very slowly. Just when you think that you’re moving forward, something else will halt the process. It is very frustrating and exhausting. This poem reflects how I felt during my five months in court.
losing my religion.
I was 13 the first time I questioned my faith. The previous year, I had spent several months in confirmation classes learning all about the origins of the faith I had been raised in. Like a good student, I took notes and memorized the Apostle’s Creed, among other things. My friends and I would sneak
losing my religion. Read More »
hope in the time of 2020.
Let’s get real, y’all. This year was a shit show. Personally, I knew it was going to be that way when Alissa disappeared on New Year’s Day for 53 straight hours. You don’t start your year discussing with your attorney the legal implications of hiring a PI to find your missing daughter and have high
hope in the time of 2020. Read More »
life itself.
I would like to meet the person for whom this pandemic has not been an utter mind fuck. Really. I would. The past almost eight months have been strange, to say the least. As tired as I am of hearing them described as “unprecedented” or “unusual,” the fact is that nothing is normal, obviously. In
from the victim seat.
I never expected that being a victim of a crime (or in our case, advocating on behalf of a juvenile victim, my daughter) would be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure in my lifetime. To that point in time, I had survived my own painful divorce as well as the highly traumatic divorce
from the victim seat. Read More »
the journal.
I’m not sure how I knew something was wrong. Woman’s intuition, I guess. We had a ritual, a routine. He would call me at work on his way to work, then I would call him when I left work on my way home. Because of our opposite schedules, we barely got to see each other,