I write, as I once told my creative writing professor in college, "Because I have to." It sounded so adult and profound at the time and he loved the answer. I remember the expression on his face of personal recognition and his finger pointed at me as he looked around the room at the other 14 students, "That's the kind of conviction you need to write."

What I meant was that for me, writing for me necessary. Vital. Non negotiable. I write to help me make sense of the world, and of my over-indulgent and over-anxious mind. If I didn't write, my ability to con people into believing I'm a fully functioning, has-her-shit-together, totally stable and not-at-all-nuerotic woman would crumble.

And so, I write. Mostly about my own experience being female, being a wife and a friend and not-a-mom but a daughter, and how I navigate a world I find both overwhelmingly beautiful and heartbreaking in equal (okay sometimes not so equal) measures with practices I've come to rely on almost as much as writing: having faith in something bigger than myself - God or the Universe or Grace (whatever you want to call it); cultivating love over fear and seeking peace amidst the chaos of my tiny personal life and the greater world.