Yesterday, was a day to celebrate mothers. This year, I decided to write a poem for my mom, who has blessed my life more than she will ever know. For those who didn't know, my mom was the one who encouraged me to start a blog. She thought that I had a story to share. But, I also wanted others to be able to relate to this poem. And if you don't have a mom or one you are close with, I hope there is another lady, a mentor or teacher who fills that role. Happy Mother's Day! When

The silk pink ribbons wrapped around my ankles. I stood with my shoulders down, one hand gently placed on the wooden barre at the studio. I tried to go fully onto the toe box of my pointe shoes, but my feet still hurt. The pain continued as I proceeded to follow the instructed steps. What should have been more simple felt impossible for my body. I was only seventeen, had already danced en pointe for over a year. Though turns and combinations in center I never could master. An

This is for the chronic illness warrior who worries they’ll be alone forever. This is for the single and sick person who wonders how to advocate for themselves. This is for the chronically ill adult trying to balance independence with needing help. You are not alone. That’s why I’m so excited to be speaking on a panel this month about navigating sickness when you’re single. I’m joining two other chronically ill Christians who themselves are navigating long term health challe

A lady approached me at Target. I was browsing the clothing sections, when I quietly heard "excuse me." coming nearby. I assumed she was trying to walk by, but that wasn't the case. I rarely go shopping. But, when I do, I usually have a list and know exactly what I'm looking forward. This is because of the severity of pain and fatigue I experience when walking. If I'm on my feet too long (even as little as ten minutes), I may not be able to do as much the next few days. But,