Talking (As Usual) — But This Time It Made a Difference
Still Figuring Things Out
When Words Lose Their Meaning: The Dangerous Ignorance of Modern Outrage
Learning to Let People Be Wrong About You
Stop Calling Communication an Excuse: The Irony of Being Told to “Just Listen” by Someone Who Never Does
We often get accused of “making excuses” when we’re really just trying to explain. But there’s an important distinction: a reason acknowledges what happened and why, while an excuse is meant to dodge accountability. I’ve learned—especially after my brain injury—that explaining myself isn’t about avoiding responsibility. It’s how I cope, process, and make sure it doesn’t happen again.
The problem is when people shut down any explanation, assuming it’s always an excuse. That’s not communication, that’s control. Real listening means being open enough to hear the difference.
The Pain of Seeing Death Treated Like the Easy Answer
Since August 3rd, my world has been flipped upside down. Losing Bane and then watching the reactions to Charlie Kirk’s murder has left me mentally and emotionally exhausted. I’ve always tried to see the good in people, but this whole situation has made me question that. It feels like life doesn’t matter anymore if it’s inconvenient or disagreed with. Death shouldn’t be the first answer, but lately it feels like it’s treated that way far too often — for animals, for people, for conflict. And trying to wrap my head around how so many can justify it has been nothing but exhausting.
Tomboy Then, Tomboy Now: Why Being Myself Never Meant I Wasn’t a Girl
This was me in the 90s — oversized Steve Yzerman Red Wings shirt, shorts, sneakers, and the biggest smile. I didn’t care about dresses or pink bows; I cared about sports, about being outside, about being in the game. Looking back, it makes me laugh because that’s exactly what a tomboy was — a girl who didn’t fit the mold of a “typical little girl,” but was still completely, unapologetically a girl.
My First Real Test of Sobriety: Saying Goodbye to Bane
The Last Time I Saw Him Was on a Screen— I Miss You Already
