Why I’m Here
For a long time, I’ve carried around stories, memories, questions, joys, disappointments, and experiences that I’ve never really known what to do with. Some are easy to talk about. Others are not.
The past seven years or so have been some of the hardest in my life. Harder than I’ve allowed most people to see. I’ve fought hard to let people see only the smiling person they knew, but in reality, that person has changed quite a bit and doesn’t feel like smiling nearly as much as they used to.
I almost put that last part in the past tense, because I am building myself back up, and lately the smiles have been coming a little easier and more genuinely.
Recently, I’ve found myself thinking maybe it’s time to start putting some of this into words.
I’ve spent much of my adult life working with nonprofit organizations, raising money for causes I cared deeply about, building relationships, working with volunteers, and trying to make a difference for children and families. I’m incredibly proud of that work.
But over the past seven years or so, I’ve come to realize there is more to a person than what they do for a living.
There’s the kid they used to be.
There are the people who shaped them.
There are the amazing experiences and painful losses.
There are the mistakes, the disappointments, the unexpected turns, and the moments that changed them in ways they didn’t fully understand at the time.
And there are the things that still make them smile.
I want this space to be about some of those things.
I’ve thought a lot about how much of our past stays with us. One example that I plan to write about soon is that I was bullied when I was growing up, and although those years are long behind me, I’ve come to realize that experiences from childhood don’t necessarily disappear just because we get older. Sometimes they quietly follow us into adulthood.
I’ve also experienced some of life’s deeper losses. I’ve said goodbye to people I loved. I’ve watched people I care about face difficult circumstances. I’ve experienced the uncertainty that comes when a career you’ve spent decades building no longer looks quite the way you expected it to.
At the same time, people I thought were friends ghosted me, which, as you can imagine, made things a bit harder.
And yet, that’s not the whole story.
There has been so much good.
There have been people who believed in me when I needed someone to believe in me.
There have been colleagues who became friends.
There have been children and families who have reminded me why I mattered.
There have been ridiculous moments that made me laugh, ordinary moments that became unexpectedly meaningful, and people who came into my life and left a lasting mark.
And somewhere along the way, I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose the part of myself that liked to be child like.
The part that can still get excited about something simple.
The part that didn’t have to work at being goofy and making people smile.
The part that, despite everything, remains hopeful.
Maybe that’s what this blog will ultimately be about.
Life as it really is.
Not perfectly polished. Not tied up neatly at the end of every story. Sometimes difficult. Sometimes funny. Sometimes heartbreaking. Sometimes wonderfully ordinary.
I’ll write about things I’ve experienced, things I’m still figuring out, and things I wish I had understood earlier.
I may write about growing up. I may write about work and starting over. I may write about grief, relationships, resilience, and the ways our past can shape us.
And every once in a while, I may just write about something that makes me smile.
I don’t know exactly where this will take me.
I’m okay with that.
Maybe that’s part of the reason I’m here.
To tell a few stories.
To make sense of a few things.
And maybe, if I’m lucky, to remind someone reading them that whatever they’ve been through, they’re not the only one.
So…
Welcome.
I’m glad you’re here.
