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Grace

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  The day I learned self-forgiveness was the day I gave myself permission. For years I lived each day blind to the effect my thoughts and inner dialogue were having on me. In 2019, during the beginning of my newest venture in business, I was fiercely reading self-growth books. I had been told that these books would be the path to my success, and during this time I read one such book called The Untethered Soul by Michael A Singer. In this book, Singer explains the gravity of inner dialogue. Essentially, he likens our inner dialogue to a roommate. If we had a roommate that spoke to us similar to our inner dialogue, would we keep that roommate around or would we evict them? Shortly after this time I began to look at myself through a “reality” lens. I began to treat myself as I would others. I would ask myself, “If a friend/family/stranger did this, what would I say to them? What would I think? What would I feel?” This logic especially applied to judgements I held against myself ...
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To Be Back

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       I am living in a dream come true, sitting in Oregon at 6 AM on a Wednesday morning. The Pacific Northwest.      My first time to Oregon was on business in the middle of July 2020. I remember being on a flight that was jam-packed, wearing N95’s because it was the height of the Covid pandemic. Driving away in my rental car I marveled at Mount Hood painting the backdrop of a sky that was dusted orange and purple from the setting sun. I had a podcast playing, relishing the stark contrast between the Pacific Northwest and the familiar East Coast landscapes I had known all my life. That first trip to Oregon lent many mornings waking up at 5 AM, throwing on a jacket, and heading for a 3-4 hour hike before meeting up with my friend and then-business partner to meet with people he had scheduled for me. I would hike a different trail each morning, each Oregon mountain I winded through more beautiful than the last. I’d come back to my hotel to a warm c...
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Beyond the Stars and Stripes

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       In the humid embrace of a summer morning, as the stars and stripes lazily danced in the breeze, I found myself at a crossroads of tradition and introspection. The familiar symphony of fireworks and barbecues whispered a new narrative—a dance between past and present, as the essence of this cherished holiday gracefully evolved. Elaborate celebrations with extravagant fireworks and bountiful barbecues gradually yielded to a simpler tradition—the tranquility of the beach, a humble home-cooked summer dinner, and a restful sleep.      As the sun of July 5th bathed my face and shoulders with a hazy glow, memories of past Fourth of July celebrations flooded my mind. Childhood days filled with gleeful sprinklers and carefree romps in the yard, watching store-bought fireworks puncture the night are like a magician's spell. The tantalizing aroma of grilled hamburgers and hotdogs, shared with my family, as we painted the dark canvas of July nights with bur...
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K$O

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Names and aliases have been changed to protect identities. The time immediately following my exit from the Navy, I moved from a townhouse in Portsmouth to a 2-bedroom apartment in Newport News. The area it was situated in what was considered rough by people familiar with Newport News; I didn’t see the issue then. The road my apartment was on was right in between the bad part the area is known for and a very quiet neighborhood. In fact, that neighborhood would be where I would go for 4 AM runs and midnight walks over the next two years that I lived there. I loved my apartment. It was a great price for two bedrooms and it was my own (I had briefly lived with a boyfriend in between leaving my townhouse and coming here; this apartment was found in haste and on January second of the new year, I moved in). It had a spacious balcony on the back and the long living room was divided perfectly by my couch; in front of the couch was where my TV and coffee table went, and right behind the co...
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