I Have Boundaries, Dammit! How a Misspelled Tattoo Became the Symbol of My Return to Self
“I know what I’ll do today, I’ll get a tattoo!” I thought, watching the sunrise from my floor-to-ceiling window in a luxurious $22-a-night Airbnb in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Sprawled across a king-sized bed, I soaked in the comforts of my surroundings, worlds away from the mosquito-netted jungle hut where I’d just spent ten days deep in the Amazon on my first Ayahuasca retreat. Ten days of fasting from salt, sugar, and distractions. Ten days of facing myself. Through four ceremonies, laboring through excruciating physical pain, the walls I’d built to outrun my own feelings finally started to crack, making space to face the parts of myself I’d been too busy,…
Surrender
I have a message for you Her strong hands Know stuck parts My estranged bones yearn to melt into my soul A primal desire trapped deep in my hips Surviving in fear and disappointment Aching to be free Her strong hands offer permission To become unstuck I weep for fear of freedom A rush of love charges through my veins Mom, are you here? Surrender, she whispers Written in February 2025 I wrote Surrender during the second month of my unplanned sabbatical—looking back on that time one year later, so much of the pain of that time all makes sense, but in the moment it was so confusing. What…
The Girl in the Strawberry Field
On a hot, sticky day to work I went. Picking strawberries with my new white dress. I was getting hungry so I decided to eat some strawberries. Yum! They’re sweet and juicy. Oh no, I squirted some on my dress. I am getting sunburned. The money I will make will have to go to suntan lotion. My children are probably screaming for me. Only three more hours left. “This job is too tiring,” I said as I fell to my knees. Church tomorrow… what will I wear? My dress is stained and torn My boots are not white but brown. My knees are shaking and I am sunburned and I…
