Because much of my existence these past seven years has been dictated by my children's needs, I now feel lost as I try to identify the person looking back in the mirror.
My hands approach the keyboard with a caution unfamiliar to them. I often write about personal things involving only me. To write about something that involves the lives of others adds a layer of responsibility that I've not had before. I find myself reticent. Careful. But writing is how I express myself. It is how... Continue Reading →
I’m told you should never forget where you come from. That sounds like good advice, but I've always struggled with this because it seems nonsensical to me. I’m not sure I could forget my beginnings. It’s woven into my memories and helps to define who I am. My fears, motivations, and perspectives are rooted in... Continue Reading →
Grace is one of those words I struggle to define. It’s grown to mean more than just elegance or poise in my opinion. It’s a word that I’d use to describe a woman, never a man, and this distinction intrigues me. A man can have finesse, but that's not the same thing as grace. To my mother, it... Continue Reading →
You make friends fast when you're an expat. You're a little more receptive to differences and your boundaries for "normal" are forcibly expanded. Everyone becomes a potential friend. The people you'd form an opinion about back home are the ones who come through for you when you're in a pinch. I've lived abroad since 2001 (minus a two-year stint in... Continue Reading →
Seven other nations celebrate Thanksgiving or a holiday akin to it. Whether you're sitting down to a stuffing-ladened turkey in the USA or if you're eating a special banana dish in the Norfolk Islands, the premise is the same: it's a time to give thanks and to enjoy the fruits of our labor, which historically... Continue Reading →