Some of us rage. Some of us weep. Some make themselves small. Some go blank. Some can't shake the intrusive thoughts. Some wonder if they will ever recognize themselves again.

There is nuance and ambivalence in Motherhood that is rarely given voice.

My own path began with artmaking as a form of survival. A way of making sense of what felt unspeakable. During pregnancy and in the first year of Motherhood, I came face-to-face with the invisible systems and expectations that shape our experience of care. That season cracked me open. It was both disorienting and clarifying.

I'm a writer, artist, and narrative consultant. I hold certifications in Social Emotional Arts (UCLA), Motherhood Studies, and Matrescence facilitation. I've spent more than fifteen years working in and around the arts.

This work — the essays, the poetry, the art, the consulting — is all one practice. An attempt to name what we're forced to hold.