She stayed for almost twenty years because it “wasn’t bad enough to leave.” Not good—just tolerable. A spotless home. Smiling vacation photos. A life that looked fine from the outside while quietly draining her from within. Each time she lowered her expectations, she moved farther from herself. What she knows now is this: the cost of staying the same is far higher than the cost of change—and the distance between what she had and what she wanted was never as far as she believe

This week, I was doing what I do, scrolling on Facebook, and saw a friend post about his weight loss journey.    He looked f*cking fantastic.  It's why I stopped to look in the first place. But beyond even the obvious weight loss, the most noticeable thing about the “AFTER” photo was his big, beaming smile.   The caption told me that he had been showing up at the gym, focusing on his health, really doing the work. But tucked into his celebration post was an apology too- " I k

You’ve probably noticed this about yourself: When a friend needs help, you’re there. No hesitation. No second thoughts. You’ll move mountains, reschedule your entire day, over-give until your own body is running on fumes.   But when it’s flipped? When someone wants to give to you? When they offer help, praise, love, or generosity, suddenly, your skin crawls. You deflect, minimize, brush it off. You turn it into a joke.  You’re more comfortable carrying everyone else than let

She sat across from me this week and said something I’ll never forget: “My divorce cost over $100K—and it’s the best money I will ever spend.” She wasn’t celebrating the ending of a marriage. She was naming the true cost of settling—the nights she pretended she was fine, the intimacy that felt like obligation, the slow erosion of her standards and self. That money bought her freedom, breath, mornings without dread, joy without rationing.

I spent five days in a courtroom watching women face the man accused of stealing far more than their bodies—he stole their freedom, safety, and the lives they might have lived. What became painfully clear is this: society does not protect women, it protects power. Survivors are interrogated, doubted, and asked to carry the weight of violence in silence while systems bend to shield men with wealth and influence. I’m done being quiet about that, stand with me in refusing a cult