We all know one of those people. You know, the ones who can’t help but stick their nose into other people’s business? It’s usually that distant relative you only see once or twice a year who still views you as a kid, or maybe that know-it-all friend who just can’t help themselves. You don’t ask for it, but they give it anyway: unsolicited advice.

It took me awhile to realize that I can sometimes be one of those overly “helpful” people. I inherited overzealous advice-giving from the most well-intentioned folks around — my family.

There was one family member, however…

My inbox is filled with notices of new policies and cancellations due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Even if I have only a mild concern for my own health related to the Coronavirus, the constant bombardment of information (and misinformation) is enough to induce a state of panic.

For those of us who live with some level of disordered anxiety or hypochondriac-tendencies, this is a very heightened and challenging time. This state of constant hypervigilance means the adrenal stress response is working overtime and at risk of fatigue or even failure.

Simultaneously, many of us are also breathing a sigh of…

I came out of the womb at a full sprint. An hour or two of sleep at a time was the norm well into my first year. Mom, who was just 20 at the time, still laments the fact that I had to be in constant motion even when I was asleep. If she stopped her efforts to soothe me for even a minute, I’d wake up screaming. Poor thing.

One time, she found me sitting cross-legged on top of the refrigerator like a monkey. I had pulled the kitchen drawers out like steps and climbed up there to find…

I don’t remember my resolution from last year. Most likely, I’d forgotten it by February 1st. But chances are it was something along the lines of: workout more, get wealthier, be happier or upgrade something.

Whatever it what probably didn’t happen, or at least not the way I’d dreamt it up in the twilight of a champagne-infused euphoria.

Wanting this year to be different, I decided to take the time to really reflect and map out my new year and beyond.

And so, I’ve spent the past few days celebrating my successes and dwelling on my failures. …

I recently recorded an IGTV video with 4 Tips to Survive the Holidays. While the title may seem extreme, that’s the reality for many of us. We “get through it” instead of living it.

And no wonder, we’re bombarded with images of what the holidays “could” or “should” be. Unrealistic expectations forced upon us by family, friends and advertisers. It’s easy to get swept up in the swift current of tradition and commercialism.

When those expectations are left unrealized, we’re let down by what actually is. The realities and logistics of the event often overshadow what we thought the day…

My first time in a jail was at two years old — to visit my incarcerated father. Mom was just 22, but this wasn’t her first time and it wouldn’t be her last time visiting him there. My father’s times on the outside were a rollercoaster of church-going, substance use, support groups, petty larceny, repentance and guilt. Recidivism, not rehabilitation, was the way of life. When I was six, four years after this visit, he died by suicide.

My second time in a jail was when I was 22, after being arrested on felony charges of Malicious Destruction of Property…

My first word was not Mama or Dada like most babies; it was DOG. It wasn’t uncommon for my mom to find me curled up on the floor next to our first dog, Sampson. It’s no wonder one of my first non-liquid meals was dog food.

I love that dogs are unfailingly loving and loyal. They are empathetic and intuitive and have a way of brightening your day no matter what’s going on. Best of all, they are always happy to see you — even if you’ve only been gone a minute.

We always had one or more dogs around…

But why? We’re all so connected these days. I mean, look at all of these meaningful social media interactions we’re having.

The question, of course, is not how many interactions we’re having, but what is the quality of these interactions. Quantity only feeds the ego. Quality feeds the soul.

But there is risk!

To go beyond the superficial and make those deeper connections requires something that can be pretty scary: vulnerability.

With that level of openness and honesty the cracks begin to show. People see that we are not congruent with our perfectly portrayed public persona- heaven forbid!

However, when we are in touch…