Scared, Paranoid, Angry, American–On the Occasion that The Words Have Become Synonyms

Dear Lily June, If I can’t say it here, anonymously, where can I? I whisper confess: I think I am losing… Read more Scared, Paranoid, Angry, American–On the Occasion that The Words Have Become Synonyms

Leaning into the Lyre–On the Occasion that You Need Hope

Dear Lily June, I’ve probably said this to you before, but one major part of being a writer is being… Read more Leaning into the Lyre–On the Occasion that You Need Hope

Dear Lily June, I am tempted not to tell you about days like today. Is there a way to say… Read more From Under the Waves–On the Occasion that You Feel Alone

Dear Lily June, If, by the time you can read these, I’m not saying it often enough or with nearly… Read more Smiling in the Rain–On the Occasion that You Find Yourself Wanting a Clean Beginning

Dear Lily June, I often wish my life were a story written in a book. When I was having trouble comprehending… Read more Coffee & Change–In Which We Rewind Yesterday

Dear Lily June, One Bit of Background I’m not much for optimism when it comes to New Year’s resolutions. I’ve… Read more Easy as 1, 2, 3–In Which I Struggle More On Purpose

Dear Lily June, Every morning (assuming I remain diligent), you’re going to watch your mother reach out for the little… Read more Keep Calm and Take a Pill–In Which Your Mommy Talks about Her Medication

Dear Lily June, Your cousin Martin couldn’t have been more than eight years old when he stood under my mother’s… Read more I Just Don’t Belong Here–In Which Being Young Can Suck

Dear Lily June, My father had a way of talking through his teeth that always terrified me. My mother had… Read more A Way of Being Invisible–In Which I Remember and Project

Dear Lily June, If it were in my ability to do so, I might shield you from this world in… Read more Surviving Survival–In Which I Talk about PTSD