For more than a decade, I’ve been writing my way through the fault lines of a life that has split, shifted, and reshaped me in ways I could never have predicted. What began as a private attempt to understand the cracks—grief, betrayal, identity collapse, resilience, reinvention—grew into a sustained practice of turning the unspoken into sentences.

I write as the wife of a combat veteran with severe PTSD. His deployment ended years ago; the war moved into our house and never quite left. These essays are about what that asks of a marriage—and of the woman holding it: how to love one man through the aftermath without disappearing herself. A love story that includes a war, not a war story that happens to include a marriage.

I share these pieces openly—blogs and essays.

Outside the page, my life is equally full. I raise two remarkable sons and pour my determination into endurance athletics: marathons (including Boston), triathlons, and two Ironman finishes. Wife, mother, athlete, writer—not competing identities, but the systems that shaped how I think, feel, rebuild, and tell the truth.

At its core, my work is about the decision to stay—made daily, without illusion. If you’ve found your way here, maybe you’re standing on your own fault line. If so—welcome. You’re in good company.