Who am I?
On the surface, Iâ€™m a woman, a wife, a mother. But at heart, Iâ€™m just a girl. Here, Iâ€™ve exposed my vulnerable core. You can read all about me in the Fact section â€“ youâ€™ll probably learn more than youâ€™d ever want to know. Iâ€™ve written those posts so I can learn to discern whatâ€™s true. I had to tell my own stories to feel the truth in my body, so that when I work in the realm of fiction I can physically discern the truth from whatâ€™s fluff. Or bullshit.
Am I dangerous?
A little bit, yes. I write about other people ruthlessly. I bore straight into their most secret hearts, and sometimes I get it right. If it’s weird, uncanny, or unstable, I’m drawn to write about it. Empathy has no morals, and Iâ€™ve spent the past few years exploring the worst parts of the human psyche, trying to discover its depths. Iâ€™ve offended a few people, I think. Iâ€™ve lost some friends. I write about others to learn about myself, and that might be the same thing as manipulation. I donâ€™t know.
Thing is, when I write, I want not only to expose, but also to heal. I want you to edit me, and I want to revise. I want to try again and again until we get it right.
Weâ€™re in this together.