We like to think of growth as a straight line. We imagine that as we spend years working on ourselves, processing past hardships, healing from life's challenges and health issues, learning better boundaries, and quietly building our inner strength, we eventually become somewhat bulletproof. We tell ourselves that the stronger and wiser we become, the less likely we are to be misled. It is a comforting thought. But lately, my evening deep-dives into human behavior have made me

I live on the fifth floor, and I sleep with my curtains open. I hadn’t really thought much about that until recently. I simply like them open. I like seeing the last bit of the world before I fall asleep, and I like waking up to whatever light the morning decides to bring. But lately I’ve wondered if there is something more to it. Maybe I like my curtains open because that is how I want to live my life. Not exposed. Not without privacy. There are parts of me that belong only

Our parents write the opening chapters. We spend the rest of our lives discovering that we are the author of everything that comes after. I spent the past couple of days with my family. Although I talk to my mother on the phone several times each week, I only see my parents a few times a year because they live more than three hours away. My mother is a remarkably strong and resilient woman. She was 17 when I was born and she went on to graduate from Emory as a registered nurs

There are moments in life when we begin to feel a gentle tug. Not a loud voice. Not some dramatic sign from the universe. Just a quiet whisper that says... There might be more than this. Most of us know exactly what happens next. Fear arrives. It reminds us of everything we could lose. The paycheck. The relationship. The routine. The identity we've carefully built. The certainty of knowing what tomorrow looks like. And because fear is persuasive, we often convince ourselves t