It was just after Summer Solstice. I was walking across the office and it hit me. Really hard. But in a good way. I was walking normal. Normal. NORMAL!! I had stood and immediately stepped off. No pause to let my foot figure out what was happening. No baby steps. No light taps to ensure I don't upset what my physiology has become. Normal strides. Not cautionary. Not gingerly. Normal. It was just a typical journey from my desk at the office to the bathroom. Typical, yet extra

Earlier this month, on my way to New Jersey, I finally stopped at the Vermont Country Store. Finally. How does a 50-something woman from New Hampshire make it this long without ever stepping inside the Vermont Country Store? Honestly, I have questions for myself. I've driven by this store at least two dozen times in the last 15 years. I’ve driven past it on trips to Florida, Washington D.C., New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Texas, and probably a few other places my memory has packed

Recently, I had a bad day. A really bad day. The kind of bad day that sends you reeling into a panic attack, where your whole body goes into alarm mode and all you can do is cry on your mom's shoulder. Something happened, not intentional, but it had severe repercussions. While I waited for those repercussions to hit, I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. But I didn't. First, I called upon my circle. I told my six closest friends from 3 different walks of life what

When he first cheated - the online affair - we had just celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary. The traditional gift for a 20th anniversary is china, all beauty and delicacy. The modern gift is platinum, because by then a marriage is supposed to have proven its strength. The color is green, which feels almost rude now, considering how much envy came later. Delicate, it seems, was taken to a new level, since he essentially shattered our relationship with his betrayal. Platinu

Why are simple things so hard? I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately. Keeping the kitchen clean. Sweeping. Grocery shopping. Laundry. My gosh, laundry. I have the time. I have the energy. What I don’t seem to have is whatever invisible switch turns thinking about the task into actually doing the task. And because I keep avoiding these simple, mundane things, my house has become a disaster with throw pillows. The truly ridiculous part is that I spend so much time thinking

May has been a flurry of movement, literally. My goal was to hike twice this month (and every month through October), but I’ve already gone on four hikes and walked in a 5K event. This deliberate activity has propelled me forward into an active lifestyle, something I could only fantasize about last year and something that I’ve missed for almost 3 years. I’m not doing this without pain or limitations. Two of the hikes I’ve been on were too much, too long, and I finished with s

I went on a long ride recently that ended up having a single purpose: closure. When I left my house, I didn’t have a plan. I stopped for breakfast at the local café, something I had been doing frequently before my foot surgery but hadn’t done since. There was something comforting about walking back into a place that had been part of my routine before everything got interrupted. Before surgery. Before healing. Before all the small ways life made me pause. I made a quiet decisi

April was hard. Not hard in a dramatic, everything-is-on-fire kind of way. More like the slow dimming of a room. One day, I was moving along with routines, goals, habits, and momentum. The next, I realized I had quietly checked out of almost everything I had been working on. I stopped sustaining the patterns I had built in February and March. Not because they weren’t working. They were. That might have been the most frustrating part. The routines were good. The systems made s

My son Brendan has started his own health and fitness journey. As part of that, we decided we would embark on some hiking adventures this summer. I already had a goal to hike twice a month from May through October, so when he agreed to join me on my first hike of the year, I was excited. I wanted to hike Artist’s Bluff in Franconia Notch. It is a short hike, about a mile and a half, with an amazing view at the top. I had hiked it before and remembered it as easy, maybe a litt

I attended the New Hampshire Women's Conference in April. I think this is the fifth time I've attended. It is hosted by Women Inspiring Women, a group that does exactly what it's name says. I had decided to make this conference a two night getaway, so I booked a room in the same hotel as the conference, giving myself plenty of time to unwind, relax, and escape if I needed to. The conference was timely. I found myself in a typical early spring slump and my entire plan was to g

Recently, I was driving to Littleton, the kind of drive that feels ordinary until it isn’t. The radio was on, half background noise, half companion, when Hard to Say I'm Sorry by Chicago came through the speakers. And just like that, I wasn’t here anymore. I was back in 1980-something, riding down the same road, but in a different life. Back when love was still a concept I could shape into anything I wanted. Back when I believed in the kind of great love that would let me go…

For the past couple of months, I’ve been working on eating better. Not perfectly. Not rigidly. Just… better. I’ve been working with my AI coach, Vega, almost daily, talking through food, exercise, and how to create something that actually feels sustainable. One of the biggest shifts has been focusing on protein and fiber. The fiber is non-negotiable these days, thanks to some lingering gut issues that showed up after a stomach flu a year and a half ago. The protein supports t

Recently, one of my besties shared a memory about her wasband in our group chat. She had driven by a restaurant and was suddenly pulled back to his last birthday while they were still married. They had gone out to dinner, and the server spent so much time at the table flirting with him that my friend felt like a third wheel on her own date. By that point, she had already emotionally left the marriage, so it didn’t rattle her the way it might have before. Not long after, she

Vacation used to be the place where my goals quietly went to die. In years past, that was always the perfect recipe to derail me from pursuing my goals. This year seemed no different. No nightly writing. No nightly gratitude journaling. No consistent tracking of what I ate. No daily American Sign Language lessons. The habits I had spent two months building were gone with the change in my routine that is typical of vacation. Regular workouts replaced with leisurely walking aro

To close out Women's History Month, I want to celebrate a strong young woman in my life, the one I have had the honor of raising. I didn't out my wasband (I stole that term from my friend Rachael) to our kids the first time he cheated. I didn't out him after the second time either. But three strikes and you're OUT. After I busted him the second time, when I discovered the physical affair, we told the kids we were in marriage counseling and that Dad might be sleeping downstair

One Thursday night in February, I was humbled. Violently. Food poisoning does not care about gym streaks or carefully planned weeks. It does not negotiate with your goals. It simply empties you out at two in the morning and reminds you who is actually in charge. By Friday, I was supposed to celebrate. Three gym visits in a single week. A small but meaningful victory. Followed by a girl's night to celebrate National Susan Day. Instead, I made it from my bed to the couch, where

It’s a simple question. One I’ve been asked more times than I can count over the last seven years. “Are you still writing?” Until recently, it wasn’t easy to answer. Writing used to be oxygen. It was how I processed the world. How I understood myself. How I made meaning out of chaos. The characters in my head were constant companions. Their voices were steady, loyal, alive. Then betrayal happened. And everything went quiet. Not just emotionally quiet. Creatively quiet. I lost

An International Women’s Day Reflection Last summer, tears filled my eyes before I even stepped fully into the room. I was standing at the threshold of my hero, looking at the desk where she had spent countless hours putting pen to paper. Eleanor Roosevelt was a prolific writer for her time, but it wasn’t her writing that drew me to her. It was her resilience. Her courage. Her refusal to remain small. The Roosevelt estate in Hyde Park was breathtaking. Flowers in bloom. Trees

I've been on a decluttering journey since 2021. It's a long, windy, sometimes easy, often difficult road. Today, I said good-bye to an item. It was both easy and hard. Early in my marriage (I was married in 1996), I decided to decorate my kitchen and dining room with English ivy. This was inspired by dishes I found at the Skipton market (in England). Through the years, most of the plates and bowls broke - only 1 remains, still going strong 30 years later - knock on wood). All

Yesterday, Tapley handed me a future version of myself. She disguised it as a challenge wrapped in a joke. Heather and I laughed immediately, because Tapley has perfected the art of delivering truth sideways. We had gathered for the first time this year, the three of us resuming the accountability group we’d formed last February. Back then, we met regularly, shared goals, compared progress, and held each other steady. Then 2025 happened. It dug in its claws and dragged us off